


The Pain of Honor

by DestinyCantBeStopped



Category: Doom (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Canon-Typical Violence, Doom, Doom (2016), Doom Eternal, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gore, Graphic depictions of violence - Freeform, POV Alternating, Reader-Insert, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:20:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 20
Words: 40,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23981467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DestinyCantBeStopped/pseuds/DestinyCantBeStopped
Summary: A young woman finds herself falling victim to Hell's initial invasion, thankfully there's a demon watching over her.Tumblr
Relationships: Marauder(s) (Doom)/Reader, Marauder(s) (Doom)/You, Night Sentinel(s) (Doom)/Reader, Night Sentinel(s) (Doom)/You
Comments: 129
Kudos: 312





	1. Ligria Aria: I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Unfortunately, your time on Earth has come to an end.

How you still had a connection to the holonet after all that had happened was a mystery. Silently scrolling through your datapad in disbelief while the rest of your family sat quietly trying to ration out today's meals you sighed. This would be the third week of eating bland, cardboard textured canned goods. Explosions cracked like thunder in the distance and shook the ground making you all look up for a brief moment, it wouldn’t be long until they found you in your basement, and when they do, it’s all over.

Pictures were posted all over the holonet of the demons that had invaded Earth. If anyone had shown you these a year ago you’d think they were from a twisted horror movie you’d never brave to watch. Zombies, grotesque flying monstrosities and hulking demons as tall as houses all roamed the planet. The ARC’s broadcast was visible on every page you’d come across and your family would listen to each one for updates. It seems there wouldn’t be one today.

“Will you get off that damn thing and come join us for dinner? If there’s a broadcast they’ll announce it, so keep the volume up and don’t use the charge!” Your father, as charming as ever, hissed quietly in your direction. Food was the last thing on your mind, what would it do against the monstrosities that were coming over the horizon?

“I’m not feeling hungry.” Continuing to scroll through what limited information that had been made public you could see your mother roll her eyes at you as she fed your younger sister some canned vegetables.

The ground shook and you could feel the entire house shaking above you, horrified you could see that the cement flooring you were currently sitting on was starting to crack in multiple places.

Even though there was still food left you all felt so hopeless and weak. 

A loud crash rang out from above you, heavy stomping shaking the ceiling and shaking down dust from the light fixtures onto the ground.

_“Not a word”_ Mouthed your father, giving you a frightened glare.

**_“This is an ARC broadcast.”_ **The datapad strung to life at full volume, the stomping upstairs becoming more agitated as it searched for the loud noise, eventually finding the locked door that led to the staircase.

“You were a goddamn mistake!” Screamed your mother, frantically trying to get your sister to stand while the door was made quick work of by the hulking wall of flesh. The mancubus set the basement ablaze with its flamethrowers, catching both your mother and father in the fire, though thankfully your sister ran towards you instead of them.

There was no time to save them if you both wanted to live. You threw your sister over your shoulder and ran out the basement door into the garage, then stumbled out into the open air. Blocking out the agonized screams of your parents as a final blast finally quieted them down.

Both of you started coughing like mad, the forest behind your house was burnt to a crisp, the hot air scorching your lungs while you desperately covered your face with your sleeve in an attempt to make breathing easier, it didn’t. In front of you lay scorched concrete, melted asphalt and exposed underground piping work now naked from under the crushed pavement. 

The harrowing red demons from the holovids floated in the air above you, they either didn’t care or didn’t see you yet because they all continued on towards the heart of your city. Gargoyles accompanied them high up in red skies, they circled over houses and ripped out any humans that had dared seek refuge from the armies of hell. You’d heard stories of what happened to those that got carried away, but they were just that, stories, because no one had ever survived to tell the tale.

Feeling heavy steps approaching from behind you, you flipped around, coming face to face with a pink, hunched over demon with a terrifyingly large maw. It snapped its jaws together and kicked its hind leg into the dirt before letting out a hoarse roar, charging with dangerous speed.

As you leapt to the side you realized that it kept charging in one direction, watching it run off and then skid to a stop to turn to you.

You can’t keep dodging it forever, more foot soldiers were coming.

A screech from above alerted you, head snapping up after once again dodging the pinky as it ran into a nearby powerstation. Several cacodemons were firing upon an incoming military shuttle approaching at breakneck speeds, returning fire onto the demons. Frantically waving for their attention it slowed down and flew closer to the ground, dodging charred trees and rooftops.

Grabbing your sister and holding her as high as you could they took her into the shuttle, reaching down they offered you a hand, but before you could take it a cacodemon got dangerously close, landing a full hit on the vehicle. Commanding shouts came from inside the vehicle and the soldier gave you a sympathetic look, they were leaving without you.

“I’m so sorry, we’ll keep her safe.” You couldn't stop the tears that fell freely down your cheeks, just as there had been hope it was ripped away in a split second.

You screamed at them to come back, but to no avail, they were long gone and so were the cacodemons following them. 

It was then you could feel it, the heavy stomping from behind you speeding up. You ran as fast as your tired legs could carry you towards the charred woods, perhaps you had hoped to evade the charging demon between trees. Breath growing shorter and more laboured with each pace, the burning hot air taking its toll on your lungs, it was impossible to keep breathing, each intake of air felt like inhaling flames.

Your legs finally gave up, everything around you seemed so surreal as your body collapsed onto the ground, your arms, knees and face dragging onto the charred ground, ripping your skin and muscle down to the bone on charred logs, giant splinters digging through your flesh like daggers, you didn’t feel any of it.

That was until you got on your knees, your legs shaking from overexertion and malnutrition, unable to provide you any support you finally embraced what was to come. The stomping behind you ultimately catching up and you felt it all, every single scrape and cut, each giant splinter of wood through your thighs. The hunched over pink beast let out a terrifying scream, landing one giant hoof on your right hip, crushing the bone into nothing but dust, biting into your left leg and without much effort, ripping it off completely.

The searing white pain only lasted a millisecond before the blood loss became too much for your mind to bear, and you watched with a silent scream as the world grew darker around you. 

Somewhere in the distance you could hear a distorted, almost _human_ sounding scream as the demon released your leg in shock, biting in the direction of the sound and rushing towards it. The final thing you heard before you left Earth behind was a sickening gory gurgle, the demons decapitated head falling into your peripheral vision.

You could swear you felt yourself being lifted towards the heavens, maybe your guardian angel was there to carry you home?

Unbeknownst to you, it wasn’t an angel holding onto you as your eyes closed.

He was quite the opposite.


	2. Ligria Aria: II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waking up in a terrible place you make an unlikely friend.

It wasn’t the horrifyingly loud screams that woke you up from your seemingly restless slumber, neither was it the feeling of the cold bloodsoaked rock that you were lying on, no. It was the smell, the absolute stench of mangled corpses and rotting blood that surrounded you, in your small prison cell alone was a set of remains that seemed to be half torn apart by the mindless wandering unwilling that crept up and down the halls outside. 

The worst part was the blood, it was everywhere, the floor, the walls and even the bars that confined you into this tight space were covered in a thick layer of darkened crimson. Likely smeared onto them by previous inhabitants. 

The second you let out a trapped breath and inhaled the foul air you dry heaved and shot up from the stone slab you were laying on, whatever contents of your stomach that was left threatening to make an appearance as you stood up cursing.

The heaving led to coughing and then to strangled breaths as you finally convinced yourself to grab onto the bars of the cell for support, regardless of the substance covering them. Bending over and placing your other hand on your knee you tried to catch your breath.

Taking a moment to feel around your body you couldn’t locate the injuries from your fall, your hip was intact and somehow so was your leg. It pushed you up with very little effort and you stood back up from the floor, using the bars as leverage.

You raised your relatively clean hand to feel at the back of your head, you’d taken a pretty hard fall but there was no injury or pain that you could feel there either. What you could feel however was your dirty hair splotched with sticky red where it had rested on the cold rock. A shiver ran down your spine as you tried to untangle the mess that had been created.

Overall you felt _fine_ , you didn’t feel good, or bad, not stressed nor calm, it just felt like it could have been worse, somehow? You weren't hungry and you weren't thirsty, but you figured that could change the longer you stay here. 

Speaking of which, where even is “here”?

Carefully looking outside the bars you could see identical cells lining the wall opposite of yours, just barely making out shapes of other humans within them. Some of them reached their arms out of their holding cells and begged to be rescued by the passing demons. They offered everything from money, favours or anything they might have once had to get out of this place. They felt betrayed, they’d in their opinion led pure and good lives, they didn’t believe they deserved this fate. 

The remaining humans were slumped up against the walls in their cells, devoid of any will to resist and almost completely passive as to what was going on around them. The only sign of any general awareness was that they’d huddle closer to the wall when the demons pacing the halls grew closer to their individual cell.

Hopelessness slowly started to set in at the sight of the long hallways that reached further than you could see down both ends from behind the bars, corridors spreading out from the sides where bodies were dragged down one to another by the unwilling.

“You...” Flinching and letting out a strangled scream you flipped around. You looked into the darkened corner on the other side of your claustrophobic nightmare to see a somehow familiar looking man. He was squinting at you with tired eyes, sitting with his back against the wall, his arm resting on his pulled up leg. “You’re not like the others I’ve seen come and go lately...” His accent was thick and powerful, you were for some reason unable to place it anywhere on a map.

“I’m sorry?” You gulped and clutched your racing heart, eventually squinting into the darkness in an attempt to make out any finer details. Intricate tattoos covered more than half of his exposed torso, they spread out from his right shoulder, up his neck and continued downwards towards his legs. The rags he wore around his waist covered the remainders of the design.

“Pardon me, ma’am, it seems I’ve forgotten my manners over the years.” Standing up he easily towered above you by a foot or more, his overgrown salt and pepper beard and hair braided intricately, reminding you of older norse hairstyles. “Name’s Tytharon.” He offered a thin hand and you took it carefully though his grasp was much stronger than yours, giving it a light shake.

“Hello there, Tytharon...” Still uncertain of his intentions, you remained on “your” side of the cell. Compared to everyone else he was much too calm for your liking.

“Greetings...?” Expecting your name in return you hesitantly gave it, he nodded attentively. “Can’t say that’s a name I heard in Kher Lodur, what region are you from?” You offered the name of your home country, but left out the city and region, folding your arms across your chest and taking a step back.

“That’s an _interesting_ name, that located around Neras? Can’t say I’m too familiar with that region, or your accent for that matter.” With his head tilted he gave you an inquisitive look, leaning back.

“Tytharon, I appreciate the friendliness , I really do, but how on Earth are you so calm?” Wringing your hands together you motioned outside the cell, a grimace spreading on his face, blinking while processing what you’d told him.

“Earth? Right… That’s where they’re all from.” Shaking his head and rubbing the nape of his neck he looked back at you. “I’ve- been here for longer than most. It sounds despicable but I’m used to…. this.” Raising a hand towards the outside to emphasize what he meant.

“Where else would we be fro-” Your words were cut short as the seemingly mindless skeletons dragging themselves through the darkened hallway outside scurried away from sight, seemingly speaking to each other via an array of growling and barking noises.

As you crept up to the bars the air around you became harder to breathe, there was an uneasy and nauseating feeling nesting in your stomach, yet you couldn’t look away. Emerging from the shadows of the corridors was a towering nightmare of a man, seemingly hollow black sockets where eyes once were. Two sets of curved horns sat atop his head, one pair much lower than the other, pointing forwards instead of up. He wore a robust set of armour lined with chainmail and heavy fabrics, darkened veins on his pale white skin ventured to what seemed to be the core of the armour, a single glowing emblem on the chest piece.

Unlike the smaller creatures around him he walked with purpose, his head held up high. He did not take notice of the begging humans he walked past.

“Sit down and don’t make a sound.” Tytharon mumbled as he did as he himself instructed, you followed suit, carefully backing away and sitting down on the carved stone.

“Who is that…?” Whispering back at him carefully he squinted ever so slightly, how could you not know who that was?

“Not someone you want to grab the attention of.” As he looked down you did the same, remaining quiet although your heart was hammering against your ribs, holding a breath as he got closer to your cell.

The sound of his heavy footsteps stopped just outside the cell and you couldn’t help yourself. As your head turned to look at him so did his to look at you. His crimson eyes seemingly stared right through you, he placed a single pale hand on the bars. 

**“You were on Earth all this time?”** His voice was heavily distorted and his accent was just as strong as Tytharons, though the demon's pronunciation was much smoother than his in comparison.

If your heart could beat any harder it would break through your ribs. All three remained silent as the headhunter seemingly awaited a reply but your mind was drawing a complete blank, releasing the trapped breath and your breathing speeding up uncontrollably instead. You stared back at him, words couldn’t form, your mouth felt like it was full of cotton.

"Nortiek ka'r terreri, erun varik."

Seeing as he wasn’t going to get a reply anytime soon he pushed away from the bars with a frustrated growl. Giving you a final look and chance to speak up he soon turned away and continued his stride.

Looking over to Tytharon you stammered heavily, asking him what just happened.

“I’m not sure, but I doubt it’s good.”

* * *

The Hell priest Deag Grav and head of the ruling order that governed Argent D’Nur was currently overseeing the slaughter that took place in the arena situated in the center of Sentinel Prime. His guardian, the mighty gladiator executioner that carried the accursed shield containing its tormented soul. was acting out Gravs will, consuming the souls of the humans that were brought before it, adding to his already impressive strength.

As if on queue the headhunter barged into the arena stands where the Deag was spectating, the sound of his heavy armour and dragging battleaxe announcing his arrival without fail. Approaching Grav at an alarming speed, one of the wandering skeletons got in his way, not stopping he knocked it over, his boot crushing through its frail ribcage.

**“You dumped her in the prison cells, with** **_him_ ** **?”** He growled as he walked up next to the hunched over priest, towering above him.

“Why you would care for one lowly soul, after all this time in the great Khan Maykr’s service, I will never understand.” The hunched over priest shook his head, eyes focused on the slaughter, showing little to no worry about the agitated demon as he licked his cracked lips. “Yes, I put her there, where else would you have me put her? The servants quarters?” The demon snarled and placed his axe back in his sheath, he always had to be right, didn’t he?

The headhunter had demanded that she’d be spared the audience with Kalibas, the Sightless Judge, to avoid the Argent process. The Deag and the Marauder had over countless decades become what one might interpret as friends, the ruler of Argent D’Nur and the Khan Maykr’s headhunter had many stories to tell from their years together hunting down the remaining sentinel traitors. The priest had anticipated he would make such a request before the headhunter had even returned from Earth.

“So, did she speak?” He inquired absentmindedly, one hand leaving his staff and waving it in the air in front of the marauder as he spoke.

**“No.”** The Marauder retorted.

“I don’t suppose you attempted to speak to her in English?” The Deag glanced over with a smug, teasing smile on his face. The Marauder however didn’t find this amusing in the least.

**“No, I obviously spoke to her in Krathai.”** Rolling his eyes in annoyance at such a ridiculous question he swatted away the priests hand. **“Of course I did. Both English and Argenta.”**

“Well then, how _rude_ that she didn’t address you by name, the demon staring her down from behind bloodied bars.” His words laced with sarcasm, egging the marauder on further. “Is that what you wanted to hear?”

Groaning for the priest had made his point heard he turned wordlessly in order to prepare, the snarl still prominent behind his mask.

She had to be taken out of the cells, for her own safety and for his sanity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the kudos it really does mean so much to me. ❤️
> 
> “Nortiek ka'r terreri, erun varik.” Don't be scared, you're home.


	3. Ligria Aria: III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to quickly say thank you to all of you who read, left comments or left a kudos on my work.
> 
> It means the world to me. ❤️

You’d both lost track of how long ago it was that the marauder had visited your shared cell, time didn’t seem to pass down here. You’d tried to press Tytharon for more information on him however he chose not to speak of the demon, believing it to be a closed chapter that didn’t need discussing, from where you both were right now the marauders presence meant nothing good. 

You’d been the first sane person he’d met in god knows how long so naturally he’d had questions like where were you from, what was it like there and what had happened to it. He’d offered comfort as you retold your story however compared to his and his people's story you felt like a whining child, he’d seen his entire culture and people fade into obscurity. Whatever sentinels were left were under Hell’s control, and there was nothing that could be done to free them. 

Getting any sleep other than brief naps down here was impossible due to the surroundings and oxygen deprived air. Worse even was that your back, arms and legs were all horribly tense, bruised and stiff from sleeping on the stone slab, only preferring it to the floor because of the now dried blood that had previously pooled there.

The first few days in the prison cells were fine, you’d never be able to get over the smell, but you’d learnt how to filter out a lot of the noise, the screaming of the hallways now feeling more distant than before. 

What you weren’t prepared for was the hunger, your cellmate had warned you that it would come but you foolishly thought you’d be able to handle it. First there were the initial hunger cramps, they were painful but not overpowering, they subsided eventually. For a while you didn’t feel much besides for slight uncomfortable twinges of hunger every now and then, until the cramps came back so much worse than before and you’d collapsed on the ground hugging and grabbing at your stomach, wishing for it to stop.

“I’m sorry, sister.” Was all Tytharon could say as he offered what little support he could, he was used to it at this point, having been starved for years, yet never been allowed to die. “You can’t starve to death here.” The words still haunted you when the pain was at its worst, how long you be subjected to this torture? How long had he been down here to grow accustomed to it?

Waking up from a brief nap you’d decided to keep your eyes closed, unmoving, trying to think about anything but the constant hunger or the pain in your joints and muscles. 

_“What was it he said to me?”_ Pondering, you tapped your nails against your uncomfortable makeshift bed. _“_ _Nortiek terreri erean en dorek.”_ It sounded mysterious and intriguing, yet you couldn’t quite put your finger on why it felt so familiar. It didn’t sound like any human language you’d heard of, but then again he probably wasn’t human either. You tried spelling out the words quietly to yourself, repeating it until you could say it semi fluently at least. 

You could probably ask Tytharon for an explanation, but you’d questioned the poor man enough for a good while, if it had been important, he surely would have told you.

* * *

“I’ve always known you to be stubborn, headhunter.” The priest sighed at the Marauder currently pacing in his chambers. “But this is quite unprecedented, even for you.”

**“And what’s that supposed to mean?”** The taller man huffed back, unsure of where Grav was going with this.

“Normally you’d be out there harvesting souls in the name of the great Khan Maykr as you’ve gone for decades. But here you are sulking like a child rejected from the holy trials, in my private prayer chambers no less! Just because a single human soul didn’t speak to you?” The priest waved his staff up against the Marauders face accusingly, his permanent frown ever so unimpressed. 

**“It doesn’t make sense!”** He retorted, swatting away the staff with his clawed hand like it was a mosquito on a hot summer day. 

“If I was you, I’d worry more about the Slayer currently hunting me and Ranak down than some _girl_ **you** watched get kil-” Grav was unable to finish his sentence as the now very angry demon threw his Argent axe past the priest, lodging itself in the altar behind him.

**“I didn’t know, how was I supposed to?”** Irritated, he placed his hands on the back of his head, glowing eyes closing and fingers intertwining as the priest attempted to get the weapon now lodged in his shrine loose with little success. It was true, he was there when you ran but no way could he have known what you were until your soul made it very apparent. **“Don’t even remind me of the Slayer and his little laeka. They’re bound to try to reach Hayden eventually and I’m planning on getting there first.”**

Slightly bemused at Grav’s attempts of removing his battle-axe, the Marauder sauntered over while maintaining eye contact with the much smaller man, placing one hand along the top of the handle, deactivating the blades and therefore freeing it from the shrine. His smug smile was apparent even behind the intimidating mask when he turned and walked away.

“And what use is that plan if you continue stressing over this one soul you haven’t even visited since it arrived?” Growing more irritated at the Marauders' antics, Grav started walking with him as he left the chambers and walked down the chiseled stone hallways of the Night Sentinel citadel towards the prisons, having to walk much faster to keep up with the giant. 

**“Do you not know me better than that? The Slayer's death will not be a quick one after what he’s done, I can assure you.”** Glancing down at the much smaller Sentinel, he continued. **“There’s…** **_something_ ** **about that girl that calls me to her, I would be a fool to ignore it.”**

“You are right of course, however we must not lose sight of our goal because of personal goals. The consumption of Earth must continue even without Deag Nilox. Your work in hunting down the rebellious humans within the ARC will be invaluable.” Grav slowly came to a stop and so did the Marauder. “If you’re going to be so distracted by this one Argenta soul, I suggest you at the very least bring her out of the prisons to bring you ease of mind while you are away.” 

The towering man looked down at the priest and placed a clawed hand on his shoulder. **“Right you are, high priest.”** With that the two said their goodbyes for the time being, Deag Grav returning to his prayer chamber to prepare for the next harvesting of human souls and the demon deciding to act on what the priest had told him. 

The Marauders chambers were not far from the Arenas prison cells where you were being held. After a quick stop in order to clean any remaining gore or grime that remained after his previous mission on Earth and hanging up his battle-axe and shotgun in his armoury, he set out to find the girl that had plagued his mind since she arrived.

Thankfully the undeath the Maykr had blessed him with came with one advantage, an almost complete loss of smell. He walked through the bloodstained, rotting hallways to where he saw you last time, virtually unbothered by the screaming of starved and scared humans noticing his arrival. Having retrieved the keys from the guardsmen stationed at their main post, he was ready to bring her out of this wretched place.

* * *

The footsteps were the first thing that spoke of his arrival, unmistakable from the rest of the demons wandering the halls which were much lighter and organic sounding. You stood up slowly to peek outside the bars when he once again came around the same dark corner as last time, this time you weren’t going to be a stop on the way, you were the goal.

Stopping just outside, he once again put his hand on the bars that kept you prisoner and looked at you with almost _gentle_ eyes if that was even possible for a demon like him. The other hand came up to unlock the rusty padlock, hanging it on his belt, then sliding the door open with a loud creak. Stepping to the side he gave you just enough space to leave the cramped cell, your legs appreciating the stretch more than you thought possible. 

Without a word he gestured for you to step further to the side so that he could once again fasten the padlock on your cell. Tytharon gave you a sympathetic yet saddened look that didn’t go unnoticed by the marauder who in retaliation hit the bars of the cell, Tyth didn’t flinch yet you yourself nearly jumped out of your own skin in the process, flinching away from the loud noise and the demon himself.

The two of you didn’t share a word on your way out of the pits, you simply looked at the floor following behind his heavy boots as they walked you through the maze of corridors, trying to block out the taunts and pleading whines of the humans who noticed you walking freely with a demon, urging you to set them free or at least do something to help.

_“There’s nothing I can do”_ You mumbled to yourself, refusing to look up from the floor and trying to spare your sanity of what you knew awaited if you dared look at anything but the headhunters heels.

It didn’t take long until he’d escorted you out of there, still refusing to look up you noticed the putrid smell of flesh and bones disappearing in a light breeze that caressed your cheek. His footsteps came to a stop rather abruptly, almost making you walk into his back before you managed to stop yourself by grabbing onto a stone railing on your right.

He wasn’t moving, raising your head slowly, squinting slightly as if expecting something to come flying at your face, but it didn’t. You finally noticed how quiet it was, how the air around you felt like the pure ait you’d only find high up in the mountaintops and how the temperature now was at a more bearable cool than the sweaty humid air of the cells. Looking just above the stone railing you were holding onto your breath caught in your throat. 

Laid out before you was a landscape seemingly taken out of a fairytale, castles and towering cities covered in vines with bright autumn leaves dotted the landscape. The city was surrounded by tall mountains and rivers flowed freely through and in between them. Magnificent, misty waterfalls in the distance semi covered by long destroyed bridges and crumbled statues of warriors holding onto brilliant blue swords, all of it illuminated by a red moon through a cloudless night sky and the icey blue flame lamps across the bridges you and the demon were standing on.

You hadn’t realized you were crying until you felt the tears slide down your cheeks, a cramping desperation making itself known in your chest as you finally let out a choked sob, soon breaking into tears and gripping onto the stone railing while the sobs wracked through your whole body, the events of the past weeks finally catching up to you all at once. 

The Marauder turned to you, watching as your tears fell down onto the ground, while he put up a front of nonchalance he felt a twinge of guilt for what you’d had to go through while he hesitated to bring you away from that wretched place.

As you looked up towards the stars the pale red moon illuminated your disheveled features, your hair falling from your face as you opened your clenched shut eyes and let out a quiet cry, your lips quivering into a beautiful smile unlike any he’d ever seen. She’d discovered what freedom, true freedom finally felt like, even if it was just for a brief moment. The headhunter reached out and placed his pale hand on your farthest shoulder, almost holding on to you while you cried, both of you remaining until you’d recovered enough to keep walking.

**"Erun varik, Stellaria"**

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smol translation cheat sheet:
> 
> "Laeka" - An insult directed towards someones companion, calling them lesser or inferior.
> 
> "Erun varik, Stellaria" You're home, starshine.


	4. Ligria Aria: IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After what seems like weeks in the slave cells, you finally get a moment of peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this one took a little longer than usual and I'm sorry for that, allergies got me messed up. 😔
> 
> Anyway please enjoy this little soft chapter, and if you ever feel like sending me a message/memes you can find me here: https://destinycantbestopped.tumblr.com/ ❤️

The remainder of the walk once you’d managed to mostly recover was as quiet as before you came outside, though this time the Marauder made sure to take smaller steps after having noticed your difficulty keeping up with him. The size difference between you two was very noticeable, with you figuring the taller being at least 8 feet tall if you took the horns into consideration.

While he was set on getting you to relative safety in his chambers away from the smaller more erratic demons, you on the other hand kept making small stops along the way, looking at the scenery or just admiring the architecture of Argent D’Nur as it was unlike anything you’d ever seen. 

Humanity had come far in their technological advancement however in the end humanities culture had suffered a massive loss when all buildings were replaced by seemingly soulless mega structures lacking any character of its own. Here however you could practically feel the spirit of the creators through the buildings you walked through, statues of knights that adorned the halls and towering wonders in the distance as you glanced outside.

He didn’t mind the stops, he’d simply slow down enough for you to be able to catch up without paying much attention to what you were doing, only glancing back sometimes to try to catch a glimpse of your smile in the pale light outside. If you delayed a little too long for his liking he’d simply stop, turn around and clear his throat and you’d zip right back behind him with a timid smile, still looking at the ground when he turned towards you which admittedly bothered him more than he’d let on, wanting you to look up at him.

The downside of looking down constantly however was that you didn’t quite realise how closely you were following him until he once again stopped abruptly and you without fail managed to walk right into his back, letting out a small _oof_ and in an attempt to save yourself from falling, instinctively placing one foot behind you and your hands grabbing onto the closest thing possible, which in hindsight was a miscalculation. Having regained your balance you noticed how stiff the Marauder had become, seeing his back muscles tense up until you looked down and realised that the “closest thing possible” seemed to have been the thick leather and fabric belt around his waist.

Uncertain of what to do and suppressing his instincts to possibly hurt you, the Marauder turned around slightly, your hands following with him as he moved, and just sort of glanced down at you, then to your hands, and then back at you. If he wasn’t wearing his mask you would have seen his torn lips form a very slight smile.

**“I don’t suppose you can manage the rest without support?”** His voice was heavily distorted, and sent a drawn out shudder down your spine. 

“I- I’m fine.” Stuttering and pulling your hands away with haste, holding them close to your chest, the Marauders eyes following them up as you did. 

  
  


Next to you was a silver embellished, marble archway hallway leading into what seemed to be a library or sitting room. Motioning for you to head on inside you walked forward hesitantly, noting the sets of armours lining the walls of the corridor, some way too small to fit the headhunter now walking behind you with much more careful steps.

There wasn’t much decoration in the sitting room, the headhunter seemingly thinking that the already heavy silver and gray walls didn’t need any clutter. Besides for a few red lounge chairs and giant fur carpet the thing that caught your eye was the farthest wall behind two staircases absolutely covered in tomes and ancient looking leatherbound textbooks. 

Judging by the amount of dust on the surfaces and items in the room it was clearly not used a lot, the headhunter behind you walking past to walk up the staircase, asking you to follow him with a wave of his hand. 

On top of the staircase was a set of heavy wooden doors, which opened into a grand bedroom with a bed probably the size of your entire room back home looking as unused as the furniture downstairs, a smaller bathroom on the left with a shower and bath as well as a large balcony on the other side opening out with a stunning view of the landscape.

**“En vare-.”** He sighed, reaching into a drawer by the foot of the bed. **“You should probably take a shower before you touch anything.”** Handing you a neatly folded long sleeve knitted sweater, easily a few sizes bigger than you which you accepted reluctantly, not sure if his comment was well meant or more a comment on how you currently appeared, and probably smelled too. The shirt almost looked like a dress when you held it up in front of you. **“You can leave what you’re wearing in there and one of the slaves will get it later.”**

It’s been years since he’s attempted to have an actual conversation with someone but those closest to him and even those being mostly in Argenta, not English, leading to him making some unfortunate word choices, sometimes failing to pick up on social cues such as the appropriate tone of voice.

“I uh-, thanks.” You smiled meagerly at him, feeling slightly self conscious after his previous statement, him noticing your faltering smile but stepping to the side anyway to let you into the bathroom. 

Having folded what you were wearing into a neat pile on the drawers in the bathroom you double checked that the door was locked one last time before you stepped into the shower, impressed that hell would have _rainfall showers_ out of all things, but then again you didn’t expect hell to be this beautiful anyway, you weren’t sure what any of the bottles were on the shelves but it didn’t really matter, it smelled nice.

  
  


In the end you weren’t sure how long you were in there, happily cleaning the gore and grime from the slave cells off of you, taking extra time to just enjoy the warm water flowing down your aching muscles, smelling all the different soaps you could find and humming your favourite tunes louder than you originally intended. You weren’t sure why a demon was being this _nice_ to you, but you weren’t going to decline.

* * *

“Earth breakfast?!” Exclaimed a rotund sentinel in full white attire. “You’re asking me to cook you _Earth breakfast_? You might as well ask me to serve you mud on a plate! You have not been in the kitchens in years and now you show up asking for something as plain as this?” It seems the request wasn’t going to happen.

Pulling out a recipe book from the shelf in the kitchens, the eccentric chef quickly skimmed through recipes from Earth, cringing slightly at the complete lack of taste of whoever made them. “This is the kind of thing I see being cooked in my kitchens during sleep paralysis! Why in the great Khan Makyrs name would **you** of all people ask for something like this?”

**“It isn’t for me.”** The Marauder exclaimed, growing more annoyed with Polgi’s antics and refusal of his request, knowing you’d be terribly hungry by now.

“Well then who is it for, headhunter?” Squinting, the much shorter chef continued digging through his books to find something that might _resemble_ human food that wouldn’t feel like a sin towards the Argenta culinary arts. “I have an army of night sentinels to feed, I can’t just run around fulfilling every frivolous request you have without good reason.”

**“A guest.”** The chef turned around to look at the much taller man.

“Since when does hell keep _guests_?” An eyebrow arched. “Is this about the young lady you were walking around with last evening?” The Marauder didn’t reply, simply staring Polgi down and glowing eyes narrowing at the mention of ‘the young lady’. 

“What? You don’t think people notice you walking around on Argent D’Nur for once?” He had a point, the Marauder was almost always out on hunts or in the parts of the planet absorbed by hell. “So let me get this straight, your idea of wooing a sentinel lass is taking her for-” Squinting he looked into one of the books “Eggs left in black tea, salt, lime, and **wood ash for a few months**?” No, that won’t do, not in his kitchen.

“I tell you what, I will make her a light vegetable and herb soup and some marvellous emberfire toasted briatta slices, if she is a guest she must try our food!” Closing the books with determination and putting them back on the shelf he looked over at the Marauder once again while grabbing the necessary ingredients. “And don’t you ask for something as sad as _Earth food_ again.”

**“Thank you, Polgi.”** He knew there was no reason in arguing with the absolute character that was the chef, deciding instead to return to his chambers while the food was being prepared. Looking around the sitting room you were nowhere to be found, he’d left you here yesterday after you got in the shower as the Khan Makyr had assigned him yet another target of the ARC.

Walking up the steps he slowly opened the heavy doors into the bedroom, finding you curled up under his bedsheets, having rolled yourself into a human blanket burrito as you moved around during the night. He didn’t need sleep anymore, so he didn’t mind your hostile takeover of the bed, finding it humorous how while most of your body was rolled into the burrito, one of your arms were sticking straight up onto the headboard and supporting your head. You looked so peaceful that he couldn’t bear the thought of waking you up just yet, his heart seemingly skipping a beat as you let out a small snore and then once again making a roll onto your back. 

Instead of waking you up, he chose to sit out on the balcony while reading through the most recent dossiers on ARC activity provided by the priests. Hayden had in his delusions of grandeur attempted a full out assault on hell, resulting in complete failure _as expected_ much to the amusement of the headhunter, however he and several of the invading forces were still alive, Hayden having been dragged back out of hell before he could finish the job and the remaining humans having set up points of defence throughout hell, like a disease festering in his home.

Hearing you stir in bed he looked over to see you sitting up and rubbing your eyes, letting out a long yawn while stretching your arms above your head. Glancing over you gave the Marauder a small drowsy smile.

“Mellow.” Standing up, you slowly walked out on the open balcony, his old oversized shirt barely reaching your mid thighs, feeling him watching you. “I didn’t know where you went yesterday, so I hope you uh- don’t mind me sleeping in the bed.”

**“I don’t sleep, you’re more than welcome to it.”** You sat down opposite him at the stone table set, looking down at your hands fumbling in your lap.

“I wanted to say thank you, for letting me out of there.” You looked up slightly, admiring the view of the landscape. “I didn’t think hell would be so beautiful.”

**“You are in Sentinel Prime, holy city of Argent D’Nur, not hell.”** His eyes remained on you as you looked into the distance.

“But I died..?” Mumbling, you looked down again, remembering all the scapes and cuts you endured in your last moments, looking at your hands and seemingly expecting them to reappear.

**“Yes, you did.”** Blunt but true.

“Then how am I here?” This wasn’t what you were expecting, like everyone else you simply thought that once you died, that was it.

**“There’s more to death than simply seizing to exist.”** The Marauder mused, having had this conversation many times, the explanation never getting easier.

Before you could enquire more, and to the relief of the headhunter not looking forward to a lengthy explanation of what death actually is, a low knock caught both their attention, one of the citadel servants scurrying over with a platter of food to place on the heavy stone table, hastily making an exit as to avoid the Marauder who had a reputation for being “ill tempered”. 

**“I had our chef, Polgi, prepare a meal for you, I thought you might be hungry.”** Collecting his items he prepared to leave you alone to eat, but you reached out for his arm when he stood up, gently holding onto his heavily armoured wrist, much to the surprise of the Marauder. Not a single person on Argent D’Nur or in hell would dare such a move, yet there you were.

“Could you please stay?” You said carefully, looking up at him with teary eyes. “I’ve been alone for so long.” The plague that was the humans could wait, feeling himself give in to your touch and sitting back down next to you this time.

The soup tasted absolutely amazing, recognizing some flavours however some completely foreign, dipping the thick briatta slices into the soup to completely soak it and proceeding to take huge bites out of the bread, much to the amusement of the Marauder, never having seen soup be eaten **with** bread before. 

Eventually you had finished the big bowl of deliciousness, lifting it and drinking what was left on the bottom while your dinner companion enjoyed some non-demon company for once. 

  
  



	5. Ligria Aria: V

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What else is there to do when you're bored for days on end?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter is a little slower than I'd like because I just kind of want to try breaking the ice between them, but I promise I'll make up for it in the next chapter. 😏

You’d been given very specific instructions by your host not to leave his chambers under any circumstances, his paranoia convincing him that you would get hurt one way or another, nevermind the fact that you didn’t speak the language either if you needed to talk to someone, English only being known to the older Night Sentinels having interacted with the Slayer ages before, and the priests. 

There was however only so much you could do multiple days on end between his visits to check in on you, the only contact you had with anyone else being the servants occasionally bringing you a nice hot plate of food. The books in the Marauders sitting room were all in Argenta, meaning you could only look through some of the books for pictures if you were lucky enough to find any.

Having had enough of this boredom and not wanting to be left to your own thoughts, you decided it was time to do some gentle snooping around, having stayed out of drawers and storage furniture out of both fear and respect for the Marauder, but damn it you needed something to do.

First was the set of drawers by the foot of the bed, expectantly you found some older pieces of clothing that didn’t seem to fit the Marauder, a couple of books, once again unable to understand what was in them, and what looked to be a crimson hilt without a knife. Picking it up you flipped it around in your hand and decided to hold onto it for now.

On the walkways below the bedroom balcony you could always see if the headhunter was on his way to you, sometimes even waving down at him but much to your dismay it didn’t seem like he was going to wave back anytime soon. What puzzled you however was that whenever he entered the bedroom minutes after having seen him from the balcony, his battle axe and shotgun were nowhere to be seen, even though you had just seen them on him minutes before.

From what you can remember from when you first arrived, there were no separate rooms between where the walkway connected and his chambers.

Making sure the Marauder was not on his way to his chambers, you carefully tiptoed downstairs, looking around for any hidden rooms, compartments or even storage lockers where he could have put his items, using the bladeless hilt as a sort of pointer as you walked around, anything was better than to let your mind race elsewhere.

Having snooped around almost every corner of the sitting room you had started to give up, maybe your memory did indeed fail you and there was a separate room where he left his items before he came to your room, or well, his.

Having once again walked back up to the balcony to have a look outside as the hallways were a big nono, you glanced down to the right of the massive building to see another balcony, much smaller than the one you were on, however with where it was positioned, it would be behind the stairs on the lower floor.

_ “Bingo.”  _ With a grin you decided that since you didn’t find any way in downstairs, the only viable option was to jump down to the much smaller platform one floor below, it didn’t seem like it would be too hard to do and the fall seemed manageable, you’d fallen out of taller trees as a child and didn’t get hurt. 

_ “Not like someone would care if you did get hurt then, anyway.” _ Shaking your head you took a good few steps back, one foot behind you and took off running, hands grabbing onto the balconies stone ledge as you reached it and using them to force yourself over the railings, landing less than gracefully on the platform below however without injury, “ _ Manageable”  _ you mused to yourself.

In a moment of triumph you raised your hands above your head and let out a small cheer, turning in towards the room you’d managed to vault into.

It was very clear where the Marauder had been hanging his weapons, racks lining the walls covered in foreign looking lances, spears and hightech looking crossbows, all emitting a dull red glow, inscribed with Argenta writings. Tall stone benches along the walls had multiple compartments seemingly filled with random bits and pieces of armour, tools and other scrap items, the tops being decorated with carved skulls of both beast and human, making you feel a little uneasy about having barged into this place.

You glanced up at the racks once again to avoid the sight of the skulls, surprisingly finding the spot where the hilt you found must go, the slight outline of it visible on a dust free patch against red lit stone. Putting it back where it belonged wouldn’t be too bad would it? Taking one last look at it and twirling it around in your hands, you very carefully hung the hilt back in its place.

* * *

To say he was disappointed would be an understatement, the Marauder had come to expect you on his balcony giving him a wave on his way back, but not today. Pausing slightly he double checked, maybe you were just a little slower today. Giving you a good 10 seconds to appear he realised you were probably taking a nap or looking through his books again, huffing he let out an annoyed grumble, dropping his disengaged battle-axe slightly so it grazed against the stone walkway, making a distinct wail as it dragged after him.

_ “Oh no.”  _ You head jerked around towards the familiar sound of the Marauders' return, staying low to the ground you looked out from the smaller platform to see him just round the corner into the hallways.

“Well technically I didn’t do anything wrong.” You said to yourself sheepishly, trying to figure out how to work the lock on the door from the inside, fingers fumbling over the display panel as you could feel your heart jumping out of your chest.

It finally opened, you practically jumped out, reaching in again and then closing it from the inside, withdrawing your arm quickly to avoid getting stuck in the door. Heavy steps getting ever closer you did the first thing that came to mind, grabbing a book, opening a random page and pretending to read the text inside, your back against the entryway where you could hear the Marauder stop once he had walked up behind you, your heart beating at a hundred miles per hour.

**“What are you doing?”** If  _ words _ could sound like a raised eyebrow, this was it.

“Reading.” You mumbled, flipping the page nonchalantly.

**“Do you… Understand what it says?”** Reaching from behind you, he flipped the book upright and took it from your hands, having you turn around with him as he withdrew.

“Uhh.. No? But I like the pictures.” Looking up you could see that he was smiling under the mask, his jaunt cheeks pushing upwards, knowing fully well that the book you were holding didn’t  **actually** contain any pictures.  _ “Idiot” _

Letting out a low hum the headhunter placed the book back in its place, reaching over to the side of a not so concealed control panel you somehow missed when it was inactive behind the staircase to effortlessly open what you thought was a secret room. _ “Double idiot.” _

Watching him go inside you now realised the error that was putting the hilt back in its place, the Marauder slowly coming around the doorways corner and holding it in front of you, not nearly as amused as before. _ “Triple idiot.”  _

Taking off, you darted towards the stairs, only to realise that you really didn’t have anywhere to go, the headhunter less than enthusiastic about your impromptu escape attempt, him merely walking behind you until he could throw an armoured arm around your waist above the final stair step to lift you off the floor and held you against his chest, his other free hand holding onto your jaw, claws gently holding you in place.

**“If you were anyone else, I’d have you killed.”** He said slowly, dragging out the words intentionally, making you shudder against his cool skin.

“As far as I know, I’m already dead, so that might be a problem.” Your hands were grabbing onto the arm holding you up, your legs kicking against his in a poor attempt of showing defiance.

**“You still feel pain, no?”** His voice so smug you could  _ hear _ the smirk on his face, his claws gripping down harder against your skin, starting to whine and give in to his touch pressing your head back onto him.  **“So how about you behave, and I won’t have to do something you’ll regret?”** A shiver ran down your spine, that wasn’t a joke.

He didn’t need to say that twice, seizing your struggle and giving his arm a small pat you signaled your surrender to the much taller man, who then proceeded to set you back down on the floor, hands lingering ever so slightly before letting go and straightening himself again.

**“This”** he continued from behind you, holding out the knife  **“is actually for you.”** Surprised, you took it in your dominant hand, raising an eyebrow.

“I don’t know how to use this.” You stared blankly at the hilt.

**“Good, that means I can teach you how to use it properly.”** Gulping you turned around to look up at him, not sure where this was going.

“With all due respect, I’m not sure if I’m the fighting type.” Your hand reached up to rub at your neck.

**“We’re going to have to change that then.”** With a somber laugh the Marauder reached out for your hand, pointing the hilt away from you both and guiding your fingers to the blade's trigger, its sharp red light illuminating your features,  **there’s that smile he’d longed to see again** .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to say thank you to all you beautiful human beings that read this fic because it means a lot. 🥰
> 
> As always you can find me here if you want to send me a random meme or message: https://destinycantbestopped.tumblr.com/


	6. Ligria Aria: VI

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What could go wrong when you pit a veteran Night Sentinel enhanced with demonic power against someone who never dared fight back before?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so there's almost like 1000 hits on this thing soon and I just love you all so much thank you for reading and your amazing comments, also I will never stop leaving these thank you notes everywhere because you're all magical babies and I'll care for you forever you beautiful sons and daughters of (amazing) bitches.
> 
> Please enjoy this little chapter, I had a lot of fun writing it.❤️

It had taken negative 10 seconds for the unit of night sentinels to leave the main training hall after your and the marauders late arrival, while he was greatly respected by them, getting in his way was less than desirable, hell's influence leaving him volatile and prone to acting on impulse. 

In place of your usual oversized dress sweater, one of the servants had taken your measurements and been sent off by the headhunter to retrieve some more suitable clothing for the coming activities which in this case was a pair of black and camo green athletic tights and a matching tank top in the same material. The articles clung to your curves tightly, leaving you feeling just slightly self conscious since you had been walking around in baggy clothing for a while, not used to being so defined.

The marauder on the other hand was having trouble looking away when your mind was elsewhere, having commanded the same servant that brought you your current outfit to retrieve more clothing for you that went along the same lines, feeling you deserved some actual fitting clothes instead of his old clothing from when he was a sentinel.

Both of your knives and weapons had been placed on the side, him having taken off his vambraces and gauntlet to make it easier for you to strike without hesitation. 

You both stood facing each other in the center of the training main hall, the design of the area very much matching the rest of the remaining architecture on Argent D’Nur.

After having gone through some basic rules such as never take your eyes off of the opponent in closed situations, and never stay in one spot for too long, he figured it was time to see what you can do.

**“Attack me.”** The Marauder said making a motion with his hand for you to approach.

“I don’t really know how.” You shrugged, unsure of what you were meant to do.

**“Just do what I say.”** Bracing himself he gave you a nod, here goes nothing.

Your first attempt was a complete failure, trying to run up to him to punch him in the chest however only being met with his elbow to your stomach when you tried, knocking your air out and landing you on the ground.

**“You’re wasting energy. Walk, don’t run unless you know what you’re doing.”** He offered you his hand to help you up and you gladly took it, hauling you up with little to no effort. **“Again.”**

This time you took his words to heart, choosing instead to circle your opponent, mimicking your actions he did the same and walked the opposite direction, a smug smirk growing wider under the mask the further you went.

“What’s so funny?” Inquiring with a confused look you soon found out what, as he attempted closing the gap and you took a step back, only to hit a wall behind you. “Oh.” you huffed and the marauder came up to you.

**“Mhm, oh.”** He mimicked as he exhaled, his hand coming to rest on your shoulder, you looking up into his eyes. **“Don’t lose track of your surroundings, if I caught you like that you’d have been dead before you could blink.”**

“You could have just told me both of those things.” Half joking he gave you a slight shrug, his other hand coming to rest on your hip.

**“If I just tell you what not to do, you wouldn’t learn the consequences, would you?”** Glancing down at you he was so close, trapping you in between him and the stone wall. A situation that could only be interpreted as a death sentence for anyone who ever had the misfortune of encountering him on the battlefield, yet there you were, unwavering and looking at him with those gorgeous eyes that even the night stars envied.

“Maybe... I’ll have to try again a few times? To really learn?” Poking your index finger against his chest playfully he inhaled sharply, how long had it been since someone came in contact with him without fear? “You could take that mask off…” Stumbling over your words he raised a figurative eyebrow as you tried to find an excuse for why he’d ever have to do that in the first place. “You know, so I have something to aim at?” 

Taking his hands off of you and backing away slightly he reached behind his head, a loud snap sounding out as the claspback of the guard opened up, letting him remove the obstructive piece of armour and toss it over to the other pieces of discarded arms and armour.

To say he had a sharp jawline would be an understatement, his jaunt and ripped cheeks trailing down to two smaller sharp horns aiming down from chin, his thin lips having a long rip from the top right all the way down to the the bottom left, leaving them split and revealing sharp teeth behind them. He knew that any sane human being would have been revolted at the sight, flinching away in horror as all the others had, but you simply stared with no indication of your feelings, making him shift in place.

_“So that’s why….”_ The silence in the hall was deafening as you took an unsure step forward while trying to summon any ounce of courage you had, the Marauder remaining in place. 

In an attempt to ease the situation the headhunter was about to suggest you go back to training, but before he could speak you had placed a hand on his lower jaw, your thumb stroking his cheek gingerly. “You should… You should maybe have that off more often.”

That was all it took to have the much taller man break out into a contagious smile, his torn lips parting and letting out a huffed sigh. **“You’ll have to give me a reason to.”** His voice being much less synthesized without the mask on, having a much gentler sound than his usual concealed self however it still had the same growling, slightly otherworldly echo of an undertone. **“So how about you try that again, keeping eyes on where you’re going this time?”**

He didn’t need to say that twice, you backed off and raised your fists up to your chest knowing fully well that with all that armour on there were only a few targets, arms, the unprotected side of his chest, stomach and head, although the latter would most probably result in a broken hand if you managed to hit one of his horns. 

This time you were the one to close the gap, dodging his first albeit intentionally slow punch by ducking and bouncing back up to land two jabs into his stomach, it didn’t affect the Marauder but he was pleased with the attempt, this was something he could work with. Taking an abrupt step forward he wanted to see if you were listening to his advice, letting out a hum of approval as you this time instead of retreating backwards took a couple of steps to the side into the open center of the room.

The Marauder was preparing to throw another punch when you noticed his eyes squint and drift off to the side, having seen two of the citadel servants peering around the corner from the hallway into the training hall where he’d demanded privacy. You knew how he acted towards the servants based on how they reacted towards them, and when you noticed his snarl and him taking off towards the two you saw your chance, and took it.

“Hey!” Before he could react and turn towards you completely he was met with a sharp right hook to the lower jaw just barely missing his lower horns, snapping his head to the side harshly. He hunched over with a pained groan, you seeming very proud of what you’d just done even though your hand now hurt like hell, gripping onto the pained wrist with your uninjured hand.

The servants took the opening as a means of escape, darting away from the training halls in the blink of an eye. With clenched fists your sparring partner looked back at you in a confused daze, anger and most of all, a sense of _pride_ making itself known in his chest as he rose back up, one of his hands coming up to rub his now quite sore jaw.

You weren’t sure what kind of reaction you were expecting, perhaps for him to retaliate or to do literally anything but just stare at you, completely expressionless while rubbing at his jaw. Raising your injured hand to his you very gently moved it down to his side, replacing it with your own and gently caressing his cheek.

He was surprisingly warm to the touch, reminiscent of the heat one would feel if you’d hold your hand above a tealight at just the right height before it would hurt or burn, it was almost comforting.

Initially he had remained stiff, eyes not leaving you until he finally leaned in to the touch with a sigh, eyes closing as his hands ventured to your hips, holding onto you gently.

**“ N'ar kat tek'r sur dimaro keval, Stellaria.” **The Marauder sighed and held you close, having been starved from such gentle physical contact for so long he didn’t want to let go. 

“I don’t know what that means, but it sounds beautiful.” With your heart racing and not wanting to let go of the headhunter, you leaned into him, you hand falling from his face and you arms instead wrapping around his neck, his head resting on top of yours.

**“It means that I’ll let you get away with that.”** Leaving out the last word, he reached up to hold onto the injured hand as gently as a demon can, holding it up as to inspect the damage done, it had already started to swell.

**“You need to wait with those punches until you know what you’re doing.”** Both of you had to stifle a laugh at that one, maybe he was right, but it felt damn good.

“I think that went better than expected.” Shrugging he had to agree, once again leaning in and nodding against the top of your head, you had a sentinels spirit through and through.

**“Breaking your hand isn’t going to get you anywhere.”** Drawing out a grumble of understanding from you. 

The two of you finally parted when brisk footsteps echoed in the hallway outside, a unit of Night Sentinel guards walking past and taking a quick glimpse into the training hall, some lingering too long for the headhunters liking. 

**“Let’s get some bindings on that before you decide to assault me again.”** That earned him a light smack on his arm.

“You literally elbowed me into the ground!” You exclaimed, uninjured hand waving in the air as the two of you walked back to the sidelines in order to retrieve your previously discarded items.

**“Self defence.”** Feigning offence you placed a hand on your chest and gave him an _”excuse me”_ look.

Your heart dropped when you realised that once his missing armour was back on and the two of you left this place, he’d go back to his usual quiet and menacing self in view of others, him noticing your faltering expression as he clasped his armor pieces and mask back into place, reaching for the box of medical supplies to retrieve a roll of bandage for your wrist. 

**“I’m not expected by the priests until tomorrow evening.”** Gingerly taking your hurt hand into his once again he started wrapping your wrist and hand up with a splint to keep you from flexing them, not having to care for another person for longer than he could even try to remember leaving him fumbling slightly. 

**“I can escort you back to my chambers and I can tell you more about your home, if you’d let me.”**

“I’d like that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obligatory translation cheatsheet: 
> 
> “N'ar kat tek'r sur dimaro keval, Stellaria..” - I'll let you get away with that, starshine.
> 
> As always you can find me here: https://destinycantbestopped.tumblr.com/ 🥰


	7. Ligria Aria: VII

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took me quite a while to write this but I hope it didn't take too long and that it was worth the wait, thank you again for the kind comments and even just reading this, it means so much.

He’d marched through hellscapes that would make any man or woman tremble in fear, executed his former sentinel brothers without mercy or shred of hesitation, slaughtered millions with an demonic army at his back within the first week of the Earth invasion and sadistically tortured heretics souls to the point of breaking on the glass-shored Lake of Fire.

Through the decades since the unholy crusades the Marauder and his fallen loyalist brothers had hunted down almost every single traitor sentinel, save the coward former Night Sentinel commander Valen who had exiled himself to Hell for all eternity for what he had done and the Slayer himself.

He’d told you everything that Tytharon had left out, about the wraiths, the Night Sentinel kings, the great god that was the Khan Makyr and her people to the civil war that, literally, tore the planet apart. The stories so vividly and intricately told by the headhunter, in both English and Argenta -when he got carried away-, that they captured your attention completely for hours on end until the sun had set past the horizon and the pale red moon accompanied by her brilliant flock of stars had taken dominion over the night sky above you both.

The stories told by both Akridon and Tytharon were clearly two completely opposite sides of the same story, you were unsure of what to think of it all.

To any being that ever stood against him he’s a ruthless abomination, a demon horror so harrowing that his mere presence meant suffering and misery, a mind twisted by hell's influence into a husk of the man he once was, but you knew better than that.

You’d seen how he looked at you earlier that day, felt how he didn’t want to let go of you until he had no other choice. You knew what he was, he’d told you how he came to be the demon he is now, describing in detail the events that lead to his death and subsequent resurrection via the divinity machine. 

Expecting a horrified reaction he’d already prepared for the worst, only for you to very slowly scoot a little closer over the stone bench, all the way until you were sitting right up next to him, staying quiet and gently leaning your head onto his arm while taking in the fresh evening air, a previously trapped breath escaping the Marauders masked, torn lips.

If all that he’d told you was true, and that this had been going on for millenia, you couldn’t help but feel hopelessly small in the grand scheme of things, the recent events of the demonic invasion on Earth was barely going to leave a mark on history in the long run.

“Did it hurt?” Mumbling and still trying to take it all in, you grazed over the headhunters pauldron which concealed the wound that had led to his initial demise.

**“No.”** Trailing off he took your hand into his, this thumb softly brushing over the back of it. It was true, he hadn’t felt a thing, even as he had looked down in disbelief at the argent lance protruding through his chest from his back had he only felt shock and disbelief, but no pain. **“But coming back.. It felt like I was ripped into a thousand pieces that dissolved together by pure hellfire.”**

You could only offer an empathetic smile while you squeezed his hand in reassurance. “I thought getting my leg ripped off was bad, I can’t even imagine what you went though.” While you were speaking in a half joking tone regarding the loss of your leg and subsequent death, he cringed at the memory, seeing you so helpless as your nails clawed at the pinkies hoof in a last futile attempt of saving yourself, the sound of your hip cracking under the immense pressure being enough to make him shudder.

**“Don’t think about that.”** Was he talking to you or himself? He didn’t know. He’d never admit that for the first time since the civil war, he was feeling a sense of guilt over what he had done, or more like he didn’t do. His hand let go of yours and instead let his arms wrap around your shoulders, pulling you into him and resting his head on top of yours. 

**“I should have done something.”** He felt his heart grow heavy with regret, his features contorting into a more prominent scowl than usual. 

“What are you talking about?” Confused you pulled away slightly so that you could look into his eyes, that familiar crimson gaze meeting your own.

**“I was there, I saw what happened and I didn’t do anything. I should have saved you.”** Slowly you were starting to piece together what he was saying.

“You mean you were there when I died?” This didn’t make any sense, why would he just watch you die and then come “save” you once you were dead?

**“I was. I didn’t know, there was just something stopping me, I’m-”** He paused. **“I’m sorry.”** If anyone but you heard the last few words he’d spoken he’d be mortified, they would also be dead before they could process what they’d just heard.

Leaning back into his embrace you remained quiet, trying to understand his side of the story but having trouble comprehending just what he meant by that. “Wha- What do you mean there was something stopping you, I was right there.” 

**“I saw you but I was so focused on my mission I** **_let_ ** **it hurt you. Then something just changed, I don’t know what caused it but then I looked upon you again, and** **_you_ ** **were there, actually there. Not just some human, but** **_you_ ** **.”** Pain laced his words as he admitted to what he had done, or rather, not done. Looking back at it he had his theories surrounding what had caused it, but he was unsure not completely understanding what _that_ would have to do with him.

“Do you think… Do you think that if _that_ hadn’t happened, and I’d gotten away from that horrifying thing, that you would have killed me instead?” You wanted to hear his answer, deep down you already knew what it would be.

**“I would have, yes. My objective was assisting in the invasion of Earth, and I believed you to be part of it.”** Feeling you grip onto his chest plate harder and curl up against him he hugged you even closer, as if that was even possible.

“You really would have killed me, and I’d be in hell forever…” Whatever _that_ was, you owed it your life, or perhaps your soul, whichever made more sense, not like anything did here anyway.

**“But I didn’t, I could never hurt you.”** Another twinge of regret emanated from his chest as a muffled sniffle left your lips, pulling away just enough to wipe the tears away with the sleeve of your borrowed sweater.

**“I’d never be able to hurt you, no matter where you were from.”** Cupping your chin and having you look up at him, a single thumb wiping away a stray tear he sighed. Letting go of you momentarily you lowered your head once again and pressed your forehead against his chest, hearing the familiar click of the claspback echo in the now deafeningly quiet evening air, the piece of armour now placed on the ground next to him.

**“Hey.”** Peeking back up from under his chin at the sound of his unfiltered voice, your eyes met his as he hunched over in front of you. His eyes even though long changed from their usual emerald green showed his true emotions. Pain and sadness was evident in his expression, eyebrows furrowed together as he once again cupped your chin in both his hands. **“When I said you’d have to give me a reason to take that off I didn’t mean like this.”** You couldn’t help but let a small smile ghost over your lips before once again returning to a somber frown. **“I accept full responsibility for what happened. It was my fault, but whatever happened, I’m happy it did.”**

“I am too.” Smiling and sinking into his touch you closed your eyes, he’d keep you safe.

**“This is your home now, the history of Argent D’Nur, our people, is just as much yours as it is mine, and I will teach you what that means. ‘Beautiful’ language and all.”** Sighing, he let his hand wander up to your cheek once again, wiping away a stray tear reflecting the light of the night sky.

“I don’t understand how I could be one of you, it doesn’t make sense to me.” Shaking your head you sniffled slightly, the tears slowly drying up and you were starting to realize just how much of a mess you must look like right now, voice almost cracking as you slowly regained the confidence to speak.

**“I know it doesn’t, but there you were.”** Awaiting a reply that seemingly never came the Marauder let out yet another heavy sigh. Brushing stray strands of hair away from your face he took a moment to appreciate the piece of light in the dark he’d found. Those eyes that he could look into for hours and those lips that said the most wonderful things, even if you were a sniffling, puffy mess at the moment. 

**“There’s nowhere else I’d want you to be than here, Stellaria. This is your home, where you belong, where you always belonged.”** There it was again, that word he kept repeating.

“What does that mean?” He glanced at your hands that were gently holding onto his arms, your injured hand vouching for the spirit that he couldn’t help but admire, softly bringing your hands over his shoulders, he stepped off of the bench you were sitting on a heavily armoured arm much to your surprise carefully making its way under your legs and the other supporting your back.

As he stood up he brought you with him, holding you in his arms while being almost overly careful not to somehow pinch or cut you with his battle damaged armour pieces and chainmail, making you let out a surprised yelp. **“I didn’t hurt you did I?”** The Marauder looked down at you before moving, your arms tightening around his neck.

“No! No you didn’t, I just don’t remember last time I was carried anywhere.” Your smile slowly returned as the uneasy feeling in your stomach faded, but not yet completely vanishing. As you smiled so did the headhunter, his jagged teeth visible between the tears in his lips.

**“You’re going to have to get used to it.”** Smirking and carrying you towards his bed which you had claimed your own.

“I’ll try, but you’re avoiding answering my question again.” As you yawned and once again tried to look less of a mess, he sat down on the soft bed covers, still holding onto you.

**“I’m not** **_avoiding_ ** **anything.”** He huffed, your head coming to rest against his chest. **“Stellaria, means starshine.”** Closing your eyes you let out a small peep of approval, feeling what must have been your heart skipping a beat as invisible butterflies fluttered over your skin.

“You could just ask for my name you know.” You almost teased the other, relaxing into the Marauders embrace. 

**“Demons don’t use names, they simply call each other by what makes the other stand out.”** Lowering his voice and dragging out the words he watched as you slowly drifted off in his arms, having longed for physical contact for so long he felt like he was somehow holding onto a precious piece of glass. _“You’re saying they, you know that you’re really not one of them, don’t you? I know you’re not.”_

“...n what makes me stan’ out, Mr. Headhunter?” The barely audible whisper brushed past your lips, him suppressing a snort at the name. _“Or would that be Sir for a knight?”_

**“The way your eyes shine with the glimmer of a hundred stars.”** With a small nod and a warm smile your breathing finally evened out after much struggling to keep it under control, small snores escaping as your head lulled forward, the Marauder trying to make sure you didn’t accidentally hurt yourself against his armour pieces.

**“Berix stella raeri t'kut hok la'x va'r kerav.”** Leaning forward and murmuring into your hair, he let out a breezy sigh. 

**“En sur vaelt sur ver'en nuksorn du' tauravek.”** Pushing back onto the bed softly as to not disturb you.

**“N'ar kat ka'r elvierek du' enerok sur.”** Closing his eyes and leaning back, resting his body against the many-pillow covered headboard.

**“En n'ar kat sevaron sur dorek.”** Ghosting a kiss onto the top of your head, following you into the realm of dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The now obligatory cheat sheet:
> 
> “Berix stella raeri t'kut hok la'x va'r kerav.” - When the stars rain down from the night sky  
> “En sur vaelt sur ver'en nuksorn du' tauravek.” - and you think you have nowhere to fall  
> “N'ar kat ka'r elvierek du' enerok sur.” - I'll be there to catch you  
> “En n'ar kat sevaron sur dorek.” - And I will carry you home.
> 
> Thank you for stopping by and remember to stay hydrated!


	8. Ligria Aria: VIII

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi cuties and happy weekend!
> 
> I hope you're staying safe and I just wanted to let you know that you look stunning today😉

As the sun approached the horizon and the birds in the trees outside started waking up from their slumber with graceful singing, the headhunter opened his eyes with a content sigh. While he may not need sleep due to the elixir embedded in his veins and very being, it's a rare pleasure which he never took advantage of. Mainly due to his service to the Khan Makyr and the Dark Lord of Hell being never ending. 

Taking a couple of deep breaths he became painfully aware of just how bad on an idea sleeping in full armour had been, groaning and leaning away from the headboard only to seize all movement when a grumble arose from your throat, clearly getting up early wasn’t your strongest side. 

Carefully attempting to remove most of his upper torso armour -save his main shoulder pauldron- without waking you, he gingerly placed what armour he could get off on the bed next to you both, scolding himself slightly for leaving his mask outside through the night, his time as a Night Sentinel having taught him to always care for his equipment, keeping both weapons and armour meticulously clean and even going so far as repairing it himself any chance he had, not trusting any other man with his most valuable possessions.

Your head pressed into his skin as a response to his movements, urging him to lean his now mostly bare back against the pillows, the position much more comfortable than before, his muscular and pale arms once again pulling you firmly against him and your head resting on his shoulder, leaving him to mull over how to address the previous nights events once you woke up. 

You mumbled seemingly random words into his skin, dragging out a deep groan from the much larger man. While he couldn’t make out exactly what you were saying, it certainly wasn’t any coherent sentences you were stringing together, you were whispering about tall trees and dark forests, perhaps you were dreaming of your old home back on Earth? 

**_“Earth. What kind of name is that for a planet?”_ **The Argenta as a people had always considered English to be an ugly language, ever since the Outsider had first arrived and the Khan Makyr commanded her forces to learn it to hear more about the impending doom he spoke of, eventually most Night Sentinels close to him were expected to learn it, as it was the language of their false king.

As the war between Argent D’Nur and Hell had raged on throughout the years the Outsider king had eventually stopped speaking, merely ordering commands in the shape of grunts and groans, no one knew why as when he’d learned to control and temper his rage, he had often sought out conversation with his newfound brothers in arms, the Slayer and him even sparred in the past, one might have even called them friends to some degree. He had no time for friendships, at least that’s what he told himself. 

**_“I wish you knew how much I need you, you’re mine.”_ ** Selfish or not, to him it was true. Hell may have amplified and twisted the rage and betrayal he already felt before his demise via his resurrection, but it did not completely remove his longing for affection, to be viewed as more than just a tool of horror, but to him that’s all he was now, all he had been for so many years. **_“Before you came along.”_ **

For some reason you didn’t look upon him with trembling hands and screams for mercy that night he set you free, all the others had. You’d marvel at what to him was the simplest things, make small stops when you didn’t think he was paying attention and you unlike all the others treated him like an actual person. Not a tool, not a demon, but a simple man with emotions just like the rest, never fearing from making your opinions known. He never wanted that to change, even though he’d need to get used to someone telling him off once in a while, without letting his rage get the best of him.

Stirring at the sounds of the outside world your breathing ever so slowly picked up, previously motionless arms instinctively reaching around the headhunters torso while you attempted to nestle your head into the crook of his neck, the Marauder tilting his head ever so slightly to the side so that his horns wouldn’t be in the way, words resembling a “Good morning.” being mumbled onto him.

**“Good morning to you too.”** His raspy morning voice seemingly helped you to wake up a tad bit more, smiling into his neck and nuzzling at it ever so slightly.

“-s too early” Yawning you opened one eye slightly, your current position dawning on you as you too recollected last night's events which had led you here, onto his lap. Admittedly armoured legs were _not_ the most comfortable sleeping surface even though the owner of said legs had tried making it more comfortable for you with both blankets and pillows, not that he would admit that openly however.

**“And how can you tell what time it is from there?”** He wished he could look down at you, but his horns made it impossible in this position.

“Sun’s not up.” A droopy arm coming up slowly and lazily pointing to the outside where the sun was just starting to peek over the horizon. The headhunter only let out a hum of agreement, before falling quiet for another minute, simply enjoying the moment spent with you. Still nuzzling into the others neck you continued. “How long have you been awake?”

**“A while.”** Was all he said, it’s not like time mattered that much to him anyway.

“How are you doing?” Unsure of how to bring up the conversation from the night before you decided to tread carefully, remaining in his embrace but leaning back ever so slightly so that you could look at eachother, your tired gaze meeting his. Smiling down at your puffy face he hummed, having prepared for this already.

**“I just want you to know that I meant what I said, about Argent D’Nur and teaching you your own history.”** Arms giving you a gentle squeeze he continued **“I must warn you however, little Stellaria, when I was brought back, when I woke up, I wasn’t the same as I once was.”**

Not wanting to interrupt his explanation you remained silent while giving him a nod to continue, choosing to listen to what he had to say.

**“There’s always this** **_rage_ ** **present, a fixation on vengeance for what happened to us, for what** **_he_ ** **did to us. It never leaves and while I can control it most of the time, it can completely cloud my judgement if I let it slip.”** He hadn't even admitted that to himself before, he wasn’t always in control and even that agitated him, the Night Sentinels always being strict about control and a focused mind in the heat of battle.

“If you do let it slip, is there a risk that you’d hurt me?” Wanting to hear his truthful answer you pressed on ever so gently.

**“I couldn’t.”** Pulling you back to his chest and you giving into his touch it was his turn to burrow his face into your messy morning hairdo. **“I will never hurt you.”**

**“But… if I do lose control, please get out of my way, Stellaria.”** You let out a hum of acknowledgement, you weren’t really planning on getting in the angry demons way to begin with.

“Thank you.” While it wouldn’t instantly undo what he had said, and he knew that as well, it helped your mind find some ease, your heart happily fluttering in your chest at the utterance of the name he’d given you. 

“I don’t even know your name and you’re already giving me cute nicknames.” With a timid smile you had gathered the courage to ask what you’d been wondering for a while.

**“I told you already, demons don’t use names, just what they stand out for. Most simply refer to me as the headhunter.”** Not seeing what you were hinting at he was slightly confused as to why you would bring it up again.

“I know, I know, but do you not notice that you call demons _them_ and sentinels _us_?” Eyes closed, you subconsciously held your breath while you awaited his reply, the silence lasting longer than you’d expected before he tentatively broke it.

**“Akridon Sylleus.”** As he muttered his name into your hair with a heavy Argenta accent you could swear you felt your heart skip a beat, a wide smile appearing on your face.

“Akridon Sylleus?” Trying to mimic his accent but not quite getting there he smirked.

**“Almost, you have to roll the R more than that.”** While it was true that you just almost got the name right, he really just wanted to hear you say it again. Your next attempt dragging out an overly exaggerated R eliciting a deep chuckle from the headhunter. Oh how it sounded like music to his ears to hear you say it.

**“Mhm, again.”** It almost sounded like he was pleading, but he didn’t care. Just one more time, that’s all he wanted, he wouldn’t ask again. Sitting up sideways in his lap, legs hanging over the edge of the bed as you hung your arm around his shoulder gingerly, bandaged hand travelling down his now uncovered arm. Tracing the heavy purple veins that contrasted against his pale skin down to his hand, then following them back up to his shoulder, chest and finally stopping at the only remaining piece of armour on his torso which covered his pierced heart, his hands happily coming to rest at your sides as he let his head fall back with closed eyes, your gentle touches making him feel almost _normal_ again. 

Whispering his name against his lips was all it took for him to instinctively grab onto your sides tighter, that recurring feeling of something fluttering in his chest trying to break free once again making itself known, a satisfied growl rumbling in this throat as he leaned in for a short and gentle kiss which you happily recipocated, pressing back ever so timidly before you both pulled away from eachother.

“Someone really likes the sound of their own name.” Musing teasingly in front of the other you brushed your fingers through your hair in an attempt to wake yourself up, rubbing at your eyes to hurry up the process.

**“** **_Someone_ ** **really likes the way you say it. I’ll have to start teaching you some Argenta if you keep that up.”** Reaching for his armour he started putting the multitude of pieces back together while checking them over for any damage as he always did, chuckling at the playful frown and the slap against his chest you gave him for putting it back on. **“Oh come now I can’t stay here half armoured all day.”**

“I know, I was just enjoying the view you know.” Shimmying out of his grip you got onto your feet, heading to the washroom with a fresh outfit to freshen up for the day, not that you had anything planned. Akridon’s eyes followed you all the way there until the door closed behind you, he sighed and retrieved his mask, hanging it onto his belt for now. **_“So was I.”_ **

A quick shower, a hair tie and a quick splash of cold water on your face was all it took for you to finally wake up completely, making sure you looked decent in the mirror before heading back out to where the headhunter was waiting while fidgeting with now retrieved weapons, relieved that he hadn’t yet put the final piece of armour back on.

**“What do you do when I’m not here?”** It was a genuine question, not having thought about it the previous times he’d left you here while he went back to his missions.

“I uh, I usually just wait for you to come back.” Rubbing the back of your head you couldn’t help but feel slightly embarrassed about admitting that your daily habit right now was just waiting for him.

**“You know I’m going to have to leave you alone for a while.”** Giving Akridon a sullen nod you started thinking about what you could do to entertain yourself, but he was quick to interrupt your thoughts. **“I do know someone who could use some help down in the kitchens, if you’re up for it.”**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading to all of you, I can't believe we reached 100 kudos🥺❤️
> 
> As always I appreciate you very much and if you have any feedback please let me know, good or bad!
> 
> This is also a kind reminder to bring a potato peeler and your favourite cookbook to the next chapter, amen.


	9. Ligria Aria: IX

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some heroes are never forgotten, even if they're thought to be dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been dealing with some personal stuff so it took a little longer than usual to get this chapter done, but I really really hope you like it ❤️

“So what exactly am I going to be doing?” Looking up at Akridon you awaited a reply, but he simply gave you a nudging look to keep walking down the echoing blue lit halls, taking a few smaller steps so that you’d finally be walking beside him, where he thought you belonged, letting you take in the surroundings of what was your home by right, your history. 

_“Right, in public, quiet time.”_ It wasn’t an official rule he’d set up however you did understand his motivations, having been the Khan Maykrs headhunter and a servant of Hell for decades earning him a certain _reputation_ , one that he wasn’t eager to ruin by saying the wrong thing at the wrong time, especially with you in the mix widely broadening the spectrum of possible linguistic mistakes.

Through the passage of time the citadel and world the headhunter once called home had slowly eroded around him as he himself remained untouched by time, Night Sentinels coming and going under the Deags service, merely a shadow of what the mighty and unbreakable order once was. This eventually being what led to Akridon retreating into and taking up his main residence in hell before you arrived, not wanting to bear witness to the destruction of what he had once held in such high regard, say what you will about the civil war that tore the planet apart, he longed for the brotherhood he’d once been a part of.

Statues of fallen sentinel heroes that once adorned the pathways and mausoleums on Sentinel Prime such as Lord Sash, the banner-sergeant, Roan the Mighty, and Gor, had all been defaced by the Hell Priests, considering veneration of traitor sentinels to be heretical due to their final defiance to their one true God, the great Khan Makyr and her cause.

You had seen the ruined statues yourself, not being able to gather the courage to ask for more information as you could tell they were ruined for the purpose of distorting the identity of who they once were.

There are no easy choices in war, some more gruesome than others, the headhunter however had always accepted his actions as the only reasonable choice as his belief in the Khan Makyrs will had remained steadfast. 

They had slowly corrupted him and his brothers using sweetened words laced with Hells influence, ultimately making them turn their backs on the vows they once took to serve the king, and protect the Wraiths as their ancestors had done for thousands of years since the time they first picked up arms against the titans that walked Argent D’Nur’s dangerous and hostile landscapes. A deep seething rage seemingly ingrained in his very being for countless years, until something had just recently triggered a change in his behaviour, surely noticed by others than just him.

Having almost arrived at your destination and having deemed the corridors empty enough Akridon made a choice he was hoping he wouldn’t regret. Slowing down and motioning for you to walk with him into the grand hall in the opposite wing, made to honor - and once they had passed, housed the remains of - ancient Night Sentinels, soldiers that had made a mark in Argenta history in their service to their ruling patriarchs.

Wordless and bowing his head to the warriors that made Argent D’Nur what it had been he’d let you stop and admire the multitude of plaques and the large stone statues that were still standing, some removed in an attempt to erase them from history yet those deemed fit to remain had been left untouched. Destroyed or not, the headhunter had them all documented in detail within his personal library, unknown to the hell priests. 

Offering brief translations of the plaques where you requested it he took the opportunity as a chance to help you learn and understand the Argenta alphabet, almost feeling pride rise in his chest at your attention to detail and fast learning as you soaked up everything around you. 

Having walked through most of the elders' memorials both of you eventually reached the “newer” additions to the hall of warriors, seemingly brighter carved stone hinting at them being more freshly cut than the others which had with time faded to a marbled gray.

Coming to a stop in front of one that seemed somehow familiar to you he for some reason urged you to keep walking past it, quite the opposite of what he had done with the others, yet you kept in place, his hand coming to grab yours firmly but calmly, attempting to get you to walk with him.

“I know that person from somewhere..” Trailing off and staring at the giant statue you pulled your hand back against yourself, yet keeping your hand in his, the headhunter coming to terms with the fact that you were staying in that spot whether he liked it or not, he simply wished no one would walk in during the early morning hours to see you two practically holding hands.

**“You do?”** Lacing your fingers with his clawed ones he looked up towards the statue as well, he didn’t fully recognise who or what it was supposed to resemble anymore, it had been decades since that face had looked back at him.

Depicting one of the higher ranking Night Sentinels, those who had earned the honor of a personal Preator set of armour, the warrior held an Argent axe in one hand and a shotgun in the other. His head covered by a horned helmet with a framed opening in the middle front showing the man's mouth, nose and eyes clearly. From all the times you’d looked into the very same eyes there was no mistaking who you were looking at.

“Read what it says, please.” Eyes not leaving the statue you felt him shift his weight to his other leg, he didn’t need to read it to know what it said.

**“Akridon, First-commanding Hall Master.”** You felt him sigh behind the mask and in response gave his much larger hand a squeeze in order to offer some kind of reassurance.

“So, what did you do before all of this?” Your curiosity got the better of you, he took his eyes off of his former self and returned your gentle gesture, as much as he didn’t really want to talk about his past, he had to admit the way you looked up at the statue with such admiration in your eyes made him almost _happy_ he’d brought you here.

**“The Hall Masters were some of the strongest and most experienced Night Sentinels, their seniority in battle earning them the title along with the honor of training the younger disciples in our ancient teachings of battle, carried down through countless generations of Sentinels.”** He stood tall with confidence as he explained the title and the honor it carried, you paying full attention as detailed glimpses into his past were rare and far in-between. You could sense that while he acted almost unfazed, there was a certain gloom about how he looked upon his past self, understanding that his wish to keep moving was more for his sake than yours.

In an attempt to lighten the mood that you two had so far been able to keep up since you both woke you took his words to heart, one word peaking your interest especially.

“You were a _senior_ Night Sentinel before all of this?” Even with the headhunters attempts to stop you, a mischievous grin started to spread across your face. Akridon could feel it in the air, you were about to say something you were, once again, going to regret. “How old _are_ you exactly?”

**“Old enough.”** Was all that he answered, a smirk behind his trademark mask, seeing that same attitude you had in the training hall make itself known once again, grateful for the change of subject.

“ _Old enough_ is a little vague don’t you think?.” With a growling chuckle he took a fast glance around the hall, no one was there, not a soul on this planet would dare snoop around in his shadow. Hauling you up by your sides effortlessly you let out a loud peep of surprise that echoed throughout the halls, him setting you down on the foot of his very own statue. 

Clawed and armoured hands still resting on your sides he pushed his forehead against yours earnestly as the obstructive piece of armour covering his lips unfortunately blocked any attempt he may have given at kissing you again. 

**“Old enough?”** He whispered against you, the distorted vibrations sending a shiver down your spine.

“Old enough.” You’d have to accept that as his answer, for now at least.

You were for the first time standing level with hells own headhunter, eyes closed as you both took a couple of breaths together in silence until a muffled tone was heard from the side of the mask, an incoming comm message making itself known as Akridon prepared for what he knew would come next, you eavesdropping on the conversation, even though you did not understand what was being said.

“Nevuk n nevas aurevanir keives?” Feigning annoyance with an obvious smile and a dramatic sigh the headhunter replied swiftly.

**“ Du'uk xar turenorad.” **Yet another tone ringing out signalling the end of the communications he opened his eyes and lifted you down from his effigy as gently as the Night could, still feeling like you were porcelain in his brutal hands.

**“It would seem we’re wasting too much time for Polgi’s liking.”** Giving you a light tap on your lower back he ushered you ahead, back into the corridors. **“Come on.”**

* * *

For a planet that seemed so calm in the parts where you’d spent most of your time, this sure was something else. Servants of all shapes and sizes rushed around the kitchens, preparing and bringing out meals into the mess hall for the soldiers patiently waiting, all at the barking orders of a stout older man running the entire operation like a well oiled machine, as he had done for countless years.

While you were marvelling at the autonomy of such a large kitchen Akridon gave the chef a glance, gesturing towards you and then back at him, Polgi sending a look of acknowledgement to both you and the headhunter, returning to shouting out commands to the staff shortly afterwards. 

**“I’ll return when my mission is done.”** His heavy synthesised voice made many servants flip around in horror from their stations, too caught up in their work to have noticed the headhunters presence before. Polgi however noticed and insistently started tapping his tasting spoon against the counter he was working on, most returning to their duties.

“Don’t leave me here for too long, I might find another Night Sentinel.” While you were obviously joking and motioning out into the mess hall around the corner he raised a brow and gave you a judging look. 

“ _Maybe he isn’t in the mood for jokes.”_

“Okay, okay I was just jok-” before you could finish he nudged you with his elbow subtly.

**“It’s the armour isn’t it?”** Whispering down at you with a well concealed yet sly grin you let out a snort. 

“Maybe.” Shrugging you gave him a small nudge back, fighting a blush making its way onto your face, his gladiatorial set of armour _didn’t_ really leave much to the imagination. Polgi watching the two of you from afar, following the interaction intently.

**“Mhm, we get that a lot.”** Unknowing of what he’d just implied he straightened his posture and turned to leave.

“Yes, I’m sure _you_ _Night Sentinels_ do.” A faltering step had him turning momentarily, rolling his eyes in your direction before giving you a subtle wave goodbye disguised as retrieving his axe from its holster as he rounded the corner out of your view.

“Well then!” Jumping out of your skin and flipping around, the well rounded chef had walked up behind you, enthusiastically placing his hand on your shoulder, offering you a warm smile, his accent a **_lot_ ** thicker and broken than Akridons who had, as opposed to Polgi, spent a lot more time with the Slayer. “You are lady that has headhunter in clouds?”

“I... I think?” Smiling sheepishly, you offered your bandaged right hand to the other, Polgi shaking it with determination making you yelp.

“I must know little lady, what did you think of food? I have not heard from headhunter even though I ask, multiple times!” If this chef could bother the headhunter about your food opinions he has to be someone special.

“It’s delicious!” Exclaiming happily the other pushed his chin higher in the air, puffing up at the praise. “But there’s a lot of food that I don’t even recognise.” Polgi gave you a knowing look, shaking his head slightly while making a tsk sound.

“Yes I heard, you have only had _earth food_ , I’m sorry for you.” He shuddered for dramatic effect, you letting out a snort, realising that _“earth”_ anything wasn’t held in very high regard on Argent D’Nur.

“It’s not _that_ terrible, there’s a lot of amazing food to be had there!” You seemed quite headstrong in defending your planet's cuisine, Polgi would have to see that before he’d believe it however, the cookbooks he’d gathered found showcasing incredibly odd dishes not exactly screaming _amazing_.

“You will have to prove one day.” Opening his arms he gestured towards the working staff. “For now though, I could use assistance carrying food, day started hours ago!” 

Holding out your hands ready for work Polgi placed a platter onto them, multiple plates being put on top by the wait staff, loading it with multiple different dishes before they waved you along into the mess hall, having you follow them as they delivered the food to the remaining soldiers. 

Recognising a group of them from the training hall you offered them a smile, certain that they wouldn’t understand any English if you tried talking to them anyway. The men were apprehensive about interacting with you, a few completely ignoring you for their own good but the majority thankfully either offering a smile back or raising a hand as to greet you. 

Word did indeed get around quickly, and word about the headhunter getting punched and the person delivering the punch _surviving it_ got around quicker, some even going so far as to gesturing to the bandaged hand, giving you a knowing look which you returned with a smirk, much to their amusement.

* * *

He greeted the hell priest as he always had, giving a slight bow to the crooked man.

“Greetings, headhunter.” The hell priest gave a nod back, a sly smile evident on his face as he waved his staff up against the others face, much to their annoyance. “How is your battle injury?” Confused, the headhunter tilted his head slightly and squinted down at him until it clicked.

**“Amusing.”** Fully knowing that the news would eventually reach the priest by word of mouth, the headhunter reached up to his mask that covered the point of impact, the pain was long gone but he could swear he still felt the remnants of your touch wherever he’d let your hands wander. 

Grav feeling he had pushed the limit far enough already the priest was satisfied with his little jab before continuing. “The last remnants of the heretics futile attempt of the “Hell Breaker” rebellion against the **Great Khan Makyr** is coming to an end.” With his staff high in the air summoning a portal on the far end of the room he had grasped the others attention fully. “I believe you’ll find that the chosen location of their final bastion of defiance to be of some significance to you.”

Intrigued, Akridon waited for the priest to finish summoning the portal that would take him to their last outpost, and soon to be resting place. 

“You’re going to revisit **ATLAN 07-23** “ Merely mentioning the giant battle construct had the headhunters grip tightening around his axe, his eyes reflecting the seething rage he’d fallen victim to, sinking its rotten teeth into his mind once again, leaving all rationale behind. 

Storming towards the portal it took every fiber of his being not to decapitate the priest where he stood following his final utterance.

“And do try not to **die** this time, headhunter.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Nevuk n nevas aurevanir keives?” - Where is my promised help?
> 
> “Veren kan tervek turenovir.” - We are on our way.
> 
> Stay hydrated and I'd love your thoughts as always🥺❤️


	10. Ligria Aria: X

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akridon has to face the ghosts of his past as Operation Hellbreaker comes to an end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I missed you all so much. 🥺
> 
> The parts in this chapter written in normal font is what is happening in present times, the italics is a reflection of the past.
> 
> Please note that this chapter does contain death and quite a bit of angst.

Oh how  _ pathetic  _ they were, huddled together in a tarnished makeshift fortress beneath one of the mighty atlans once belonging to the night sentinels. It had with the passing of time collapsed into a cave system within the sandy mountain, providing cover for the cowardly humans as they made their last stand. From the outside of their walls you could hear their lowly captains shouting out commands that fell onto the deaf ears of panicked foot soldiers desperately trying to fight for survival.

The last still functioning A.R.C mechs that were roughly the size of 3 men in height had been nearly completely broken down below their waists, legs and excessive plating removed in order to fortify their defences, only the top half of their war machines remained intact, their cannons being used as artillery against the demonic forces that had pushed them into their rats nest and soon to be grave.

All things must come to an end eventually, and this was indeed the case for the last remaining humans standing, as their fuel and ammunition caches had run out long ago, this was their final stretch. Hell had more than enough fodder to spare to run them dry and finish them off with little effort, but what was Hell if not cruel?

Watching from the cliffside the headhunter scoffed as his wolf materialized next to him, they dared to stand where brave warriors once stood, where they proved their worth in the final war against Hell, braving armies of demons without fear. 

All it took was a single tyrant's barrage to break through their remaining fortifications, shrapnel from the blast embedding itself into multiple soldiers as they faced the brunt of the attack. Descending from the cliff, axe in hand, Akridon decided it was time to finish this pitiful last stand, none of them would be remembered.

_ As his axe ripped through his former brother in arms torso the corrupted hall master let out a primal roar of triumph, once pure emerald green eyes emitting a crimson glow as his fall to Hell had been final, surrendering to the influence of the Hell priests manipulations. _

_ He’d trained them all since they were young, he knew all their weaknesses and their strengths. The fools had not embraced the Khan Makyrs will, instead choosing to fight against a God, they should have known it would end this way. _

_ Their Atlan had run dry hours ago, forcing them to leave the construct to fight on foot, yet they remained steadfast with minimal casualties, the sand and rocks surrounding them stained black by the constant bloodshed. _

_ Banner-sergeant Lord Sash commanded over the legion, witnessing the slaughter as the corrupted night sentinel embraced by Hell tore into them one by one, his final goal being Sash himself. _

Bashing his shield into the soldier stupid enough to stand in his way they stumbled back into the tunnels, the headhunter hot on his heels. 

**“Veranek.”** Commanding his wolf to pursue the hunt it took off, razor sharp fangs sinking into their shoulder as claws ripped into exposed flesh in between armour platings, knocking him over in agony as he tried to roll over to fight back against the spirit, but to no avail. A distorted chuckle was the last thing he heard before the argent axe made contact with his neck, ending his mortal life instantly yet his soul had so much more ahead of it.

_ “You fucking traitor!” Bellowing out in between clashes of argent blades the knight opposing Akridon seethed with rage towards his former master, unaccepting of what he had become, what he had done after abandoning his vows he made to King Novik and to the wraiths themselves. _

**_“After all the Makyrs has done for Argent D’Nur, the only traitor here is you.”_ ** _ Aggressively pushing forward they closed the distance between them yet again, lightning sparking from their crimson blades. The two were locked in a dance of death as Hell tore into the very souls of the final knights left standing, this place would drive any sane man to insanity. _

_ “All they’ve done? Is that how you see this? They used us! They used us for hundreds of years while pretending to be Gods only to discard us once they find out our souls can be ripped apart and used for their own selfish needs, they’re corrupted, evil, everything we swore to protect the universe against!” A brief moment of clarity faltered Akridons step as the knight took his shot, slashing his sword against the hall master's helmet, cutting into the metal and creating a deep slash crossing over and through his lips, blood pouring out from underneath the helmet. _

_ The pain egged him on further over insanities edge, kicking his former brothers knee hard enough to bend it backwards, howling in pain they dropped their weapon, giving Akridon one final scowl of contempt and disappointment as the axe was brought down onto his head. _

Pulling his axe out of the commanders skull he pulled the limp body up by the what remained of their head, slamming it into the cave wall, repeatedly bashing it against the hard rock until there was no semblance left of who it once was. 

**“Avekran, Galerus! Ser avekran!”** Screaming to no one but himself, his cry against the ghosts of the past echoed through the cave system, the last three humans clamoring to each other, they had nothing left to fight with, death was approaching with horns of obsidian and scarlet eyes, it was coming for them all.

Throwing his axe into the chest of the oldest in the center, he shot the youngest to the left with his shotgun, discarding the weapon onto the ground, the remaining human was witnessing their own execution, letting out a final plea for mercy.

_ “ _ Don’t do _ this!” Screaming out for his former master to gain back his sanity the much younger initiate knight gripped onto Akridons shoulders, bleeding out from beneath him. _

**_“Your commander betrayed you all, son, what do you even fight for when all is lost?”_ ** _ Hissing down at them yet not pulling away from their touch he dug his axe further into the younger man's side. _

_ “As long as my heart beats and my lungs draw breath, I will fight for the free people of Argent D’Nur, just like you taught me.” Gasping for air as the pain finally faded from his mind, the knight finally succumbed to his injuries. _

Dragging the final human out by their heel they kicked and screamed as the headhunters claws dug into the soft flesh below tarnished plating. Pulling them out of the caves the remaining demons outside glared at the begging human, yet left him and the headhunter alone, they knew better than to interrupt.

Ripping out a remaining banner spear that was embedded into the Atlans leg he forced through the man's heart, no one would remember their names, no one would know they even existed,  **for they dared to stand where he once stood.**

_ Dropping the younger knight to the floor he rose from the ground, only for Lord Sash to impale Akridon with his war standard, the azure and gold flag of the Night Sentinels becoming stained with his blood as the Argent tip seared though his flesh, leaving a hole in his chest not even the Khan Makyr could heal. _

_ Looking down in disbelief at the weapon protruding from the front of his chest, his final attempt to rise from the ground as a man had failed, knees hitting the ground hard as his breaths grew rapid and shallow, coughing up blood as his lung was ripped to pieces. _

_ “Rest brother, I’m sorry I couldn’t save you from them.” Twisting his standard in his torso and harshly pulling it back out, Sash left Akridon, his former childhood best friend, to bleed out, disoriented and quickly fading everything seemed to vanish in an instant. _

Clutching his chest and clawing at the now seemingly increasingly tight metal Akridon fiercely tore at the straps holding it in place. 

**“I didn’t need saving.”**

Flinging the claustrophobic item into the bloodied dunes his clawed hand came to rest upon the gruesome wound that had left a hole in his chest where his human heart once was, the thick purple veins that crawled over his pale skin gathering in the center, a heartbeat not of his own keeping him alive.

**“I chose this.”**

Looking all around him from the ground he could swear he could see them, just as they were all those years ago, ethereal beings staring into his very soul, they never left this side, not even for a second. The demons around him had left, they were done.

**“My- my actions were my own.”**

One by one they placed their hands on his shoulders, his arms, his chest, offering what little comfort they could to their brother, they knew what Hell's influence had done to him, even if Akridon was too blind to see or too stubborn to admit the manipulation he’d fallen victim to.

For a brief moment, even for just a second, the guilt of his past actions crushed him and dragged him under, as if he’d been thrown under the crashing waters of one of Argent D’Nur’s many falls.

**“I don’t know what you want me to do.”** Meeting the gaze of his past friend walking up in front of him, Akridon reached out for his hand, desperate for the brotherhood he was once a part of. Even though he could not physically feel the hand the spirit offered, he felt Sash’s soul reaching for his.

As fast as they had appeared, the spirits had vanished and the headhunter was alone once more, confused about the flurry of emotions Akridon remained on the ground, on his hands and knees where he’d fallen as man in that final battle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Avekran, Galerus! Ser avekran!” - You were wrong, Galerus! You were all wrong!"
> 
> Thank you all for your patience while my hands were out of commission and I hope you enjoy the coming chapters as I continue down the road to recovery, stay hydrated my loves. 🤗❤
> 
> Psst, I've also started writing shortstories/oneshots on request so please head over to destinycantbestopped.tumblr.com if there's something you'd like me to write for the Doom boys. 🥰


	11. Ligria Aria: XI

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I might have felt a little bad about torturing our poor boy, so let's have some cute moments too. 💕🥺👉👈

“We must ensure your continued survival, Grav. Without your influence the consumption of Earth will stop and the energy will cease to flow.” The amber hologram towered above the now last hell priest.

“Of course, your grace. Unfortunately however, with the disastrous loss of Deag Ranak-” he swallowed before he could continue, his own mortality now looming dangerously over his head. “I can feel my own demonic influence over the people of Argent D’Nur waning, as I am focusing my effort towards the Earth invasion.” Legitimate concern laced the voice of Grav, they both knew that at a time like this they could not afford an Argenta insurrection, should their minds become free again.

“Your concerns are valid, priest. I believe our first priority should be reestablishing control over Argent D’Nur.” Nodding, the priest agreed, pacing in front of the projection.

“We are of the same mind, your grace.” Pondering over the best course of action, Grav and the Khan Makyr were coming to an agreement, yet the Makyr was unaware of what news the priest had yet to bring forward.

“You must return to Sentinel Prime, command the people as you always have and ensure that no words of heresy are spread, allow no seeds of dissent to sprout.” The priest agreed once again, from there he could rule while the Slayer was kept at an arm's length.

“Forgive me, great Khan Makyr, but the Argenta people are headstrong, I do not believe my leadership alone would keep this at bay.” 

“While they may be headstrong, they are a people of tradition, honor and duty, they would not rise against their God. They will not interfere.” Such arrogance had no place in a time like this, Grav pressed on.

“Of course, of course! I merely suggest that we take advantage of these traits, rather than rely on them blindly, I of course mean no offence, your grace.” Treading carefully he prepared to reveal what his demonic servants had told him, events that could bring the end from within. “It would appear your most loyal servant, your grace’s headhunter, is among those most affected by the loss of Ranak.”

She remained still, slender fingers lacing together in front of her stomach. Deag Grav remained quiet while he awaited a reaction. The loss of the headhunter would be a major blow towards their hold on the people. He was not only a remaining symbol of tradition for the Night Sentinels, he was also a reminder of what happens to the enemies of the great Khan Makyr. 

Should he renounce his allegiance to the Makyrs the free people would be sure to follow. 

The results would be devastating.

“If this is true, if the headhunter is at a risk of endangering our plans, he must be brought under control.” Bringing her hands behind her back she continued, Grav listening intently. “As planned we already have the key to keep him in our service already.”

Giving Grav careful instruction on how the coming situation was to be handled he was transported to Sentinel Prime by the Khan Makyr. Setting to work immediately he ordered his accompanying demonic forces to begin collecting the necessary items for the ritual ahead of them. It would take time, something they did not have an abundance of, but should it not be performed the outcome would be much worse.

The plan being set in motion by the Khan Maykr had first been created well over a decade ago, a sentinel soul created for a singular purpose which was given by the Maykr God-mind.

Taking a life is easy, giving it back is much less so.

* * *

“You are getting hang of it, little lady!” Watching you try to keep up with him the head chef snickered. The two of you were locked in a deadly battle of which only one would emerge victorious, the vegetables on the cutting boards soon to become silenced witnesses. 

“If I cut myself I’m blaming you when he comes back.” Smirking, the knife rested against your knuckles as you sliced into yet another bundle of greens. 

“Headhunter would not dare fight me. He would miss Polgi’s food.” While he easily sped ahead of you, you hesitated if only slightly.

“I didn’t think he ate anything?” A single raised eyebrow shot a glance towards the rotund man.

“I take inventory after he visit, baked goods disappear mysteriously.” You snorted loudly and threw him a glance of amusement, not believing him in the slightest. “Is true, but I did not tell.” Giving you a wink the battle continued.

Demanding a time out you rubbed your hands together, the bandage on your wrist from earlier had been removed as you didn’t need it anymore. On top of that Polgi wouldn’t allow you near his food with it on anyway.

“Tired already?” Not even bothering to stop as you took a break the chef continued on, there would be no resting for the head chef until everything was prepared.

“I don’t know how you do it, my hands are cramping.” Yet another snicker resonated against the kitchen walls.

“It is my skill and amazing speed, little lady.” Still going strong he grabbed a fresh bundle of vegetables. “So, the headhunter?”

“What about him?” Picking up and fidgeting with the knife you’d been holding onto for the past hour, giving the other a nervous glance.

“Only insane person would joke with headhunter the way you do, or even look for his attention.” Leaning forward he raised an eyebrow. “Yet you do both.” 

You simply smiled at your new friend and shrugged your shoulders lightly, slowly starting to clean up after yourself as the evening was approaching fast. 

You should be heading back to Akridon’s quarters soon. 

“I have not seen him spend so much time in the citadel, at home, since before all  _ this  _ happened.” Motioning out a nearby window you could see the collapsing buildings covered in vines and the caved in rooftops of a once great city. Speaking now in a hushed tone he put his knife down and approached tentatively, eyes flicking around for any unwanted listeners. “Whatever it is you do,  _ and no matter how much your planet lacks in edible food _ , you’ve brought happiness to old Polgi’s heart. I never thought I’d see my boy smile again.” 

Holding out your arms for a hug the chef gladly complied, giving you a strong couple of pats on the back.

“Enough feelings, I must continue! I can expect more visits in the future, yes?” Heading back to his cutting board he gave you a heartfelt smile while turning.

“Of course, I don’t think Akridon would mind either.” Humming a tune the man reached under his work station, retrieving a small box with unknown contents.

“Speaking of Akridon, please bring him this, don’t drop!” Both of you shared an overly exaggerated wink before you said goodbye, heading back to get some rest before he returned.

* * *

You didn’t expect Akridon to be back yet, you’d thought he’d come to get you, but there he was. Sitting on the cold floor with his back against one of his many bookcases. His armour was nowhere to be seen, instead wearing nothing but a pair of loose, charcoal gray slacks. Books both old and new were strewn about around him, along with several datapads and photo albums displaying pictures and texts of his former brothers.

He didn’t even react when you entered the room, his head bowed with slumped shoulders and eyes focused on the photo album resting on his lap, his hand longingly resting on its pages as his mind drifted.

“Hey….” Slowly approaching Akridon you tried to get his attention, but he stayed where he was, unmoving and flipping the pages of the album. 

**“Hey.”** As his voice faltered you felt a heavy sadness in your chest, something wasn’t right.

“Do you want me to ask about it?” Standing next to him and fidgeting with a small box in your hands you looked down at his slumped over position. Eyeing over the different books that he’d left open on certain pages using metal shards.

**“No.”** Knowing his temper you didn’t want to push, but you still wanted to try to help.

“Do you want to stay on the floor?”

**“Yes.”**

“Do you want me to stay with you?” That seemed to get his attention, finally looking up at you with sorrow filled eyes, his usual fixed expression replaced with one of heartache.

**“...Please.”**

You put the box you were holding on one of the empty shelves, gently sitting down next to him, your arm brushing against his if only slightly. Being able to see the pictures more clearly you could easily see that he was looking at pictures of himself with other night sentinels. 

In some they looked stoic, proud, even intimidating, just how you’d expect a squadron of fearless knights would look before battle. Lined up in full silver and blue armour, that must have been before he became a Hall Master. In other pictures they were fooling around, Akridon and a few recurring sentinels doing everything from playing card games, drinking or just spending time together.

He still looked the same, his cheeks obviously more gaunt with the obvious additions of his four horns now, but he was still  _ him _ . Akridons eyes still had the same glimmer to them and his lips, even though torn, still curved into the same cocky smile that he had in the photos. 

He hesitated slightly before reaching for another album, the pages were covered in pictures of a group of men gathered around a campfire, happily fooling around and laughing with drinks in hand.

One was poking the fire with a stick, smirking as another knight tried to pull the others hands away from the flames. Another knight, even though his face was obscured by someone's foot, had completely folded onto the ground, facedown in the dirt. But he’d still managed to hold his drink upright.

“Don’t tell me…” You snorted audibly and struggled to contain the bubbling laughter that was rising in your chest. Akridon let out a heavy sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose.

**“Not my proudest moment.”** The laughter you’d managed to contain completely spilled over, grabbing onto your sides in an attempt to ease the cramping. Akridon put his face in his hands and groaned, which only spurred your laughter on further.

“I’m- I’m sorry I- I can’t! Look at you! You look like a run over lawn chair! I’m so sorry I don’t mean to laugh it’s just, look at you!” It took a second but even he started chuckling quietly, picking up the book to get a closer look.

**“I do, don’t I.”** He still had the same sullen look on his face, but there was a sliver of joy reflecting on his features as well.

“You doooo!” Feeling slightly dizzy you placed a hand on your heart, trying to breathe through laughing fits.

**“This single picture was the bane of my existence for nine straight years, and my face isn’t even visible.”** He placed the album to the side and rubbed his forehead with his palms, looking at you with a small smile.  **“I’m happy my idiocy entertains you.”** Reaching up to your face he wiped away the tears of laughter that had slid down your cheeks while you calmed down, sniffling into the sleeve of your shirt.

“So, can I ask who everyone is?” Shrugging he picked the album back up.

**“The perfectly placed foot belongs to my younger brother Aedaric, a smooth brained idiot with a heart of gold.”** Lingering for a while he leaned into your side, almost bumping his lower horns into your head. 

**“The two frying pans by the fire were my best friends. The one poking the fire is Ba’al, always got into all sorts of fights and trouble, but he usually had good intentions. The one pulling him** **_away_ ** **from the fire is Teivel, he’s the good intentions.”** Raising an eyebrow you couldn’t help but look back up at him.

“Frying pans?” He rolled his eyes.

**“It makes more sense in Argenta.”** He was starting to lighten up, if just a little bit. He’d never admit it but hearing your laughter did just enough to lift the heavy weight off of his shoulders, if even just for a moment.

**“The man watching this all happen in horror from over there-”** pointing into a darker corner of the photo you could see a man rubbing his face with his hands, a dead stare directed towards them all.  **“Was Ti’var Sash. We didn’t share the same blood but he was by all means just as much my brother as Aedaric.”**

“So what happened to him?” Resting your head against his shoulder and giving him a small nuzzle, he much to your surprise smiled as he recalled all the fights they had through the years. 

**“The old bastard killed me. He always said he would one day.”** It wasn’t supposed to be funny, but it somehow was. At the time he was furious, blinded by rage and fueled by bloodlust but something just clicked differently now. 

“You know, I got something for you.” As you pointed up to the little box that was waiting to be opened he reached up and grabbed it, eagerly ripping into the packaging. The contents of the mystery box was all too familiar to Akridon. 

Reaching over he pulled you into a tight hug which you gladly accepted, peeking over his shoulder to view the contents yourself. Two stacks of what to you looked like mini pancakes sat in the box, a single note resting next to them. 

_ “Made with love.” _

That eccentric little chef was truly fearless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... this was supposed to be 1000 words ish, I might have slipped on that.


	12. Ligria Aria: XII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Perhaps some nightmares are more than mere figments of his imagination.

_“I have located the priest's signal, I will mark it on your HUD.” The slayer nodded in acknowledgement before bashing through the heavy wooden door. The demon hiding behind them covered in rubble and rocks, a single blast from the combat shotgun ending it’s life._

_With VEGA’s assistance the slayer had been teleported right into the heart of the hell barge currently ripping through a once great city, with each stride of the enslaved titan the structure shook violently, faltering his step ever so slightly._

_Continuing down the twisting hallways he was once again reunited with his beloved chainsaw, picking it up and making swift work of the unwilling wandering aimlessly around the cages._

_In his controlled rage he burst through yet another pair of heavy wooden doors to be greeted by the demons protecting the priest. Imps, unwilling and twisted human soldiers all turned his way._

_In his controlled rage the slayer ripped through the enemy hoards, crushing imps skulls beneath his heavy combat boots and freeing the harrowing soldiers from their torment, ending their misery with a well aimed shotgun blast to the head._

_Looking up at his HUD the priest was near, a mere couple of meters and a metal gateway separated them. Ending the final Imp with a sticky grenade to the chest he gripped his shotgun tightly, kicking down the door into the priests prayer chamber where he stood by the fire._

_Rushing up to the priest the slayer grabbed him by the neck, terror flashed onto his features before he mustered a facade of courage in his final moments._

_“You!” Gripping onto the slayer's hand he clawed at it in vain._

_“My soul- remains guarded….” Staring at his executioner he believed himself safe._

_“You can’t…” As the slayer raised the soul coin Nilox panicked , hitting at the slayer's wrist in vain before his shouts and pleas turned into intelligible gurgling, his head soon removed from his shoulders._

_Distorted visions soon filled his mind, suppressed memories rising to the surface as he remembered being dragged to the priests, bruised and broken before them. One of the sentinels dragging him spoke a heavy and foreign tongue, a language he at the time didn’t understand._

_He knew what that sentinel had become, what they had done to him, to his friend._

_Snapping out of it as the titans mind was freed he straightened the priest’s crown before making a dash for the doors, jumping down as the titan dropped the structure to the ground._

* * *

  
  
  


_Something was wrong, blinking and looking around he tried to get a feel for his surroundings, confusion washed over him as he tried to remember his objective. Having just sent a mancubus into one of the burning houses he heard a horrified scream coming from behind it, he knew that voice._

_Rushing around the corner he watched in horror as the demon ripped into you, in a blind fit of rage crying out in anger and swiftly decapitating the pinky as it charged against him, kicking its head away from its corpse._

_Why did it always end like this?_

_Why was he never fast enough to save you?_

_Looking down at your battered and mangled body he clenched his eyes shut, it was all his fault, he could have stopped this from happening if he’d just came to earlier._

_Lacing his arms under your leg and back he picked you up gently, almost as softly as one would pick up an injured butterfly. He held you towards his chest until he knew you were gone, hearing your ragged breathing slow to a complete stop as you slumped together completely._

_Completely dismissing his objective he sent a frantic message to Deag Grav, demanding he spare this soul from the argent process, for he had need of her._

_Looking down at your bloodied face his heart rammed against his chest, carrying you into the woods behind the house you’d escaped from._

_Walking until he found a quiet clearing still untouched by the raging fires he set you down carefully, resting you against a moss covered boulder, placing your hands in your lap as he did so. Even like this you looked so beautiful, feeling the built up rage and anguish build up in his chest he unholetered his axe, activating it and throwing it into a nearby tree with a broken scream, rushing up to it and ripping the blade from the trunk as it fell._

_Hacking into everything he could find he soon found himself running, he had to return to Sentinel Prime as soon as possible, he’d rip every single human apart himself if it meant he could come home to you sooner._

_As he ran he could hear you calling his name, it was clouded and distant but he could hear it nonetheless, sprinting faster he tried reaching you in time, he had to reach you in time, he couldn’t fail again._

_His heart pounded in his chest, so hard he swore he could feel it, reaching up to his chest plate he roughly grabbed onto whatever was striking against it, falling over a log and hitting the ground hard as he did his eyes snapped open._

“Are you OK?” You were lying on top of him on the ground next to your shared bed after having been pulled down by the headhunter after his fall, frantically looking into his eyes, your wrist and then back at him, it was held painfully tight in his much larger hand.

Your puffy face and messy hair told him she hadn’t been awake for long, hoping he didn't wake her though he knew that he most probably did. He looked at her quietly, his heart still racing from the recurring nightmare. 

**_“And you wonder why I don’t sleep anymore.”_ **

Letting go of your wrist he instead wordlessly wrapped his arms around you, his head falling back down onto the floor with a thud, pulling you down onto him with an aggravated sigh.

His usually armoured hand reached around your back, rubbing circles into it carefully, his clawed hand instead reaching up to your head and carefully running his claws through your hair, gently pushing your head onto the bare side of his chest.

Closing his eyes he once again sighed, feeling you relax in his embrace calmed his nerves, yet he was still on edge, listening intently for anything that could cause trouble or a disturbance for the two of you.

He had never seen the first part of his personal nightmare before, it seemed too real to be a figment of his imagination, or a memory, almost like he could see through the eyes on another man. He knew it wasn’t just any man, it was the doom slayer himself, it timed so perfectly with his nightmare that it left him questioning if it had any significance to what happened that day, when he was suddenly able to think for himself again.

Realizing how badly this probably looked he peeked up from the floor with some effort, your tired lidded eyes meeting his as your hands rested on his sides.

**“Serean.”** Finding the position they found themselves in quite amusing he gave her a meek smile, which you returned slowly, still drowsy from your abrupt wakeup call.

“Serean.” Even though you repeated back what he said with uncertainty he was still pleased with the attempt.

**“N'aretan, Stellaria.”** Offering a weak apology you gave a slight shrug and a quick peck on his chest that sent a shiver down his spine.

“Norlatias, Akridon.” Raising a figurative eyebrow he squinted slightly.

**“You’ve been spending too much time with Polgi, you’re starting to sound like him.”** At that his head fell back onto the floor, more teasing than anything yet still finding it amusing that you’d picked up on the head chef's small town accent rather than his inner city one. 

“Well then you shouldn’t have me spending so much time with him while you’re gone.” Your friendly banter was already lifting his spirits significantly, you were ok, you were with him now.

**“There’s no one else I’d trust to keep you safe when I’m gone.”** Holding you closer he let out another sigh, you peeked up once again in an attempt to see his facial features, scooting up his chest and letting your chin rest on his sternum.

“I don’t suppose you’d like to go back to bed?” Grumbling he peeked up at you, your contagious smile and sleepy eyes forcing a smile onto his lips, the deep cut through them revealing the sharp teeth behind them more than usual.

**“I’ll stay with you for a few more hours.”** Reaching up to the bedframe and pulling yourself up and under the sapphire blue sheets he followed soon after, placing a heavy arm over your stomach.

Exhaling happily you peeked over at him with one eye just barely open, Akridon pretending not to notice.

“Do you.. want to talk about it?” Even though the question was usually ignored by the other he pondered for a second before nodding ever so slightly. After he explained what he had seen you rolled over to his side of the bed, holding onto him softly. As you held onto him his heart ached for the touch he’d gone without for so long, savouring every single second while murmuring quietly.

**“I’ve dreamt the same thing since you came here.”** Pulling the heavy sheets over you both you nodded, wanting him to continue as you felt it would help if he spoke more about it. 

“Do you think it’s because you feel guilty?” Frowning he looked down at you, you knew you hit the nail on the head when his upper lip twitched slightly even though he remained silent. “I know you’re sorry for what happened, and I know you couldn’t help it either. I don’t blame you for it.” Even though it didn’t ease all his guilt it made him feel a little better, even the smallest weight lifted from his shoulders was an improvement to the crushing guilt he’d grown accustomed to.

**“Vares, Stellaria.”** The small smile returning to his lips had you smiling even wider, your heart fluttering happily in your chest.

Even though you both wanted to stay in bed you knew it was wishful thinking, he had an important job to do as the Khan Maykr’s headhunter, he surely had some important mission to get to, what it was you’d rather not think about.

**“You should be getting some more sleep, it’s still early.”** Happily nodding in agreement you closed your eyes, feeling confident that he would let you know should he need something, or need to talk about it further. 

It didn’t take long for you to drift off, Akridon deciding against going back to sleep as he didn’t want to wake you so rudely again. Instead he stared up at the ceiling, he’d found himself questioning his actions more than once lately. With the passing of Deag Ranak he’d felt, lighter, like something that had pressed down on his mind after countless years in hell’s service had lifted.

If what his nightmare tried to tell him had truth to it, the moment the hell priest Deag Nilox had passed he regained his sense of self. Bile rose in his throat, the thought of owing the slayer anything of value sickened him. To say he owed the slayer for finding you? It made him sick to his stomach, his hatred for the slayer so deeply ingrained in his very being that the mere thought of it disgusted him.

That day he saw his past brothers, the visions that plagued him in the heat of battle as he snuffed out the pathetic attempt of rebellion that was Operation Hellbreaker, had that coincided with Deag Ranaks passing, or was it mere coincidence? 

He’d been so sure that day, that what he was doing was of his own will, for the Khan Maykrs cause.

But, were his actions truly his own?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed some relative peace and quiet for once.
> 
> "Serean" - A friendly hello there.
> 
> "N'aretan" - I'm so sorry.
> 
> "Norlatias" - Don't worry about it.
> 
> "Vares" - Thanks
> 
> If you want to bug me, send me asks or requests you can always contact me on my tumblr destinycantbestopped. ❤


	13. Ligria Aria: XIII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some nightmares haunt more than one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Friday everyone! ❤️
> 
> This would be the first time writing the Slayer ad VEGA outside of oneshots, so I hope I'll do them justice.

Waking from a restless slumber the slayer sat up hastily, eyes scanning his bedchambers for any danger out of pure force of habit. Sighing into his hands he rubbed his temples, eyes squeezed shut, calming his breath. His legs had become entangled in the crimson sheets as he stirred during the night.

The same repeating dream had haunted him for countless nights at this point, it always ended the same way as well, with the young woman dying in his arms.

_ “No, not my arms.” _

In an attempt to spare his already strained mind from the nightmares there was one final ritual he could attempt. The slayer rolled out of his bed, the sheets clinging to him as he stood up onto the cold wooden floors. Looking out into the void and towards Earth he made a gesture with his hand which brought his armour out from its storage. 

“I’ve repaired your preator suit back to its original condition after yesterday’s mission, though there are several areas I would suggest upgrading.” Nodding in agreement the slayer stepped into the armour, multiple clasps and clips being fastened along the way, providing an airtight seal as the pieces activated.

Motioning towards the equipment launcher he signed towards nothing in particular, VEGA humming in agreement.

“I will see to the upgrade, in the meantime I’ve prepared breakfast for you.” Pressing his fingers against his lips and bringing them down forwards the slayer thanked VEGA, strapping his helmet to the utility belt around his waist.

As he stepped out from his bedchambers he rubbed his tired eyes in an attempt to wake from his drowsy state, descending the spiral staircase leading into the open statue room overlooking the vastness of space through blue and red stained glass.

Each window pane held a story which the slayer could recall in intricate detail, the evenings he spent with the men he’d fight alongside were often filled with grand tales of conquest and stories of their multiple victories in battle.

Lighting a golden hued candle with wraithfire he sat it down carefully and slowly at the foot of the statue as to keep the flame alive, praying a silent prayer in his mind as he did so. Moving to the side he picked up yet another candle, lit it, and set it down next to the others in the same fashion, once again repeating the prayer for each candle he lit.

He’d do this at the base of all the statues standing in the stone alcoves that surrounded him when he woke up in the mornings, all of them represented one of his fallen brothers, the ones that he couldn’t save. 

They were mere memories of what he once had, what he had lost.

When he’d first come into possession of the sentinel fortress the statues that decorated the alcoves had been tarnished, stripped of all identity and identifiable factors such as name, rank and some had even been completely reduced to rubble. In the rare moments he’d had to rest, the slayer had taken it upon himself to repair the fortress to its former glory as it now served as his base of operations during the invasion of Earth.

He’d taught himself how to carve stone in intricate detail while lost in hell following Hayden’s betrayal, had he not found other ways to remain occupied while searching for a functioning slipgate he surely would have been driven mad without distraction.

To him it was therapeutic and a way to show respect to his brothers even after they had passed. As the final night sentinel loyal to the wraiths he carried the banner for all of them, he would never forget their bravery, their honor or their sacred traditions.

The ritual he performed was called the Prayer of Light, or Larethor h’er Arion in the Argenta tongue. A rite traditionally carried out by the night’s templars to honor the dead it had originated from the age of ascension, when the Argenta people first took to the void skies in search of new fates.

The wraith fire that had lifted their forms from the steppes and forged their souls into what they became, would be the flame that guided them back to Argent D’Nur after they had passed. The ritual would originally be performed in the grand halls of Sentinel Prime. However, now that their world had fallen, the slayer had taken it upon himself to perform the ritual. He led the lost souls to where they could find peace and purpose, into the final fortress under the wraiths banner.

Very rarely could he see them in the corner of his eye, spectres would stand where they stood hundreds of years before, at their stations performing their duties, maintaining the fortress the slayer and VEGA had taken up residence in even after death. 

So strong was the will of the Argenta people, not even in death would they succumb to their tragic fate, they remained, their legacy was to live on beyond the end of times.

As the slayer approached the final statue, his most recent creation, he sighed heavily, his breath filled with an unexplainable grief, a hand coming to rest at the table beneath it. The knight it portrayed was none other than the same old knight that haunted his dreams. At the base of the statue was a name he hadn’t said out loud ever since the fall, engraved in the rock permanently so that his memory may never fade.

Through the years on Argent D’Nur he’d made many allies, bonds that could never be broken, but there were only a handful he’d call his closest allies, even family. 

Since the slayer's arrival on the distant planet he’d guided him, he’d fought alongside the slayer, trained him in battle as if he was one of them and as the slayer rose through their ranks, so did he. When the slayer had heard of their betrayal he had been lost, an iron wire had wrapped around his heart and it had refused to snap ever since.

He still felt it as if it was yesterday, looking up at the statue's face he shook his head, clenching his jaw shut and slamming a single fist into the sturdy wooden and metal surface he’d place the lights upon. 

Lighting the final candle he’d held onto so strongly it had almost cracked he placed it at the statues feet, reciting the prayer one last time solemnly. This would be the last chance he would have at finding him. 

In the corner of his eye the slayer saw a distant spirit of a knight, as the slayer was uncertain if he should look towards them or not he remained still, the spirit was the first to break the silence between the two.

“La'x arion, sur heron n'ar tur?” His heart stopped in his chest. He flipped towards the knight that previously stood in the far corner of the room however it was gone before he could even blink. They may be invisible to the naked eye, but the night’s templars had taught him better.

Nodding as to answer the others' questions he looked around slowly, eyes scanning the environment. 

Despite the complete lack of any kind of wind within the fortresses generated force field, several of the wraith flame candles he had lit flickered around him softly.

The rays of the light’s gleam shattered against the stained glass windows, creating radiant shards of colours reflecting off of the metal surfaces in the room.

“Vares enhera.” Nodding again in response the slayer's gaze fell upon the long lost soul, placing a fist against his chest plate and lowering his head. The spirit did the same in return, the sign of respect towards one another proving to the spirit that they are of the same kind. 

What remained of the soul had been lost to the endless void for so long that it barely remembered who it was supposed to be. Shards of the soul had been trapped within several crystal fragments by the hell priests that the slayer hunted. Knowing the fate his brother in arms had suffered he’d do anything he could to bring the shards together again. 

“Reantor raukr en'tekar, valeor.” Although its voice had turned ethereal its eyes kept the same emerald glimmer they’d always held, the slayer knew exactly who was speaking to him.

Signing towards the other in a language he hadn’t practiced for years the spirit once again bowed its head, thanking the slayer for lighting the flame that guided him through the hollow gaps between dimensions, free once again.

Though the spirit faded from view the slayer remained still for just another moment, the wire surrounding his heart letting up for a few relieving seconds before wrapping around it once again. The lost soul's gratitude was just enough for a rare moment of happiness. Content with the knowledge that the spirit had found its way home he considered his work for the moment done however it was far from complete. 

The four crystal shards he collected so far had been laid out in the center of the room in an order the slayer thought correct, though they would be of little use to him as only a night’s templar knew of the sacred sentinel rites needed to restore them.

Putting his helmet on the slayer stepped out into the void, walking and climbing over the broken pathways separating his bedchambers from the main fortress. Beneath the bridges hung heavy cables fastened with metal bolts that had been placed there by the slayer as a part of his restoration of the stronghold.

With VEGA’s assistance and the collective knowledge held within the mainframe of the fortress they’d managed to restore a great portion of their new home together. The commanders bedchambers and the weapon forges, though their fires had gone cold long ago, being the latest sections to become operational once again.

The repairs weren’t pretty, but they did the job well until there was time for finer details, if there would ever be any. The first priority was restoring the power and functionality of the fortress, the aesthetic aspects could wait until a later date.

The next part to be restored was the wing opposite to his where he planned on installing a more permanent home for VEGA. The opposite section had almost snapped off of the main portion of the fortress completely after a battle with traitor sentinels decades ago, a battle that had claimed most lives of the still loyal sentinels onboard. 

Having eaten and freshened up the slayer finally entered the command station's main control room, letting his hands run over the intricately detailed metal and stone fittings in between consoles. 

Above him was a hologram of Earth, highlighting the spread of Hell's influence over the planet. Europe had been hit hard, the heart of Italy being the first point of invasion. A super gore nest now situated deep within the Locke reactor on the outskirts of Rome.

Should the slayer choose to not interfere the ARC had recommended a total nuclear annihilation of the site, the decision seemed efficient in the short run however the long term effects of nuclear warfare of that scale would be disastrous for humanities survival should they survive Hell’s onslaught.

“I have located another lost soul shard within the facility, I suggest we move quickly before the ARC sets their plans to destroy the facility in motion.” Giving VEGA a thumbs up the slayer pushed down on the switch, activating the portal gates that would drop him not too far from the nests center. 

Walking down the pathway as he had countless times before the portal opened up before him, the spirits of the fortress watching as the final knight set out to fight in their name once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Argenta translations:
> 
> "La'x arion, sur heron n'ar tnur?" - The light, you led me here?   
> "Vares enhera.” - Thank you very much.  
> "Reantor raukr en'tekar, valeor." - Answer his pleas, brother.
> 
> As always I appreciate all your feedback and if you want to ask me something you can always find me here:


	14. Ligria Aria: XIV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As one fights for the fallen, another yearns for the unknown.

Stepping out of the portal the Slayer held his Shotgun close to his chest, VEGA briefing him on the area he was about to enter.

“I am unable to pinpoint the exact location of the soul shard located within this facility, as we move ahead I will be able to get further readings.” Nodding he took a quick glance at the map VEGA had provided, getting to the core of the facility was not going to be easy.

“Be careful.” Smiling ever so slightly, the Slayer gave VEGA a resolute thumbs up. Closing down the map for the time being.

Taking the first few steps in now accursed lands he shook his head at the sight before him. A foreboding pool of sorrow and rage creeped to life within his chest. The Slayer, as carefully as he could, moved what maimed corpses scattered on the ground he could against the walls of the long abandoned metro station. Those bodies which he could not move, those burnt into the ground or mangled beyond recognition, he stepped over carefully, as to not disturb their remains. There was little left unburnt with which he could cover their bodies, but he tried nonetheless to make sure they would not lay bare for the demons to feast upon. 

A scent of seared flesh and scorched ground was prominent even through the Preator suits advanced air scrubbers. The horrific stench was almost unavoidable no matter where you travelled on Earth, save for the few deserted arctic areas of the planet. As terrible as it may sound, the Slayer’s visit to the UAC's cultist facility in the arctic tundra had been a much needed one, the outskirts of the base offering a rare breath of fresh air.

Stepping out through the collapsed metro tunnels and out under the ashen skies, the sight was daunting. Overlooking the once grand city of ancient cultural heritage the slayer could see that it had been almost completely reduced to rubble. The ARC’s giant mechs, unlike the sentinel Atlans he once commanded, had stood no chance against the Titans of hell. Collapsed and ripped apart hunks of them embedded in what few skyscrapers still stood, or reaching out of molten lava flowing freely through the streets far, far below him. 

Following VEGAS instructions, he headed towards a structural weakness in the makeshift walls that surrounded the market area. Breaking it easily he was greeted facefirst with a group of gore covered imps fighting each other over a piece of flesh. The hunched over demons turned and stared at him blankly before letting out a blood curdling shriek, charging at him at dangerous speeds.

Quickly disposing of the monstrosities with a well aimed shotgun blast he pushed ahead, easily clearing the hellified soldiers and unwilling blocking his path, the two mancubi below being his objective. Freezing the hulking masses of conjoined flesh and metal he shattered them, using two well timed lock on bursts.

Hearing a far too familiar hissing sound creeping up behind him he turned from the mangled mancubi’s corpses just in time, a whiplashes bladed tail just narrowly missing his exposed bicep, leaving a faint scrape against his shoulder pauldron instead. Clenching his teeth he shot the she-demon in the chest with his ballista, staggering her just enough for him to grab a hold of her disfigured neck, the other gripping several of the tubes emerging from her torso. With a single harsh yank he ripped her upper torso from her lower half, dragging out a final shrill wail from her tattered vocal chords, tossing both parts to separate sides before resuming his slaughter. 

Ending the fight with a single well placed bloodpunch, the last pinky almost breaks in half, blood and gore covering what little unspoiled surfaces there were left. Brushing the blood from his visor the Slayer looked around the hellgrowth covered mall for ammunition or armour left behind by others, a couple of plasma cells and shotgun shells concealed under a pile of rubble and shattered glass grabbed his attention, reloading his weapons while scanning his surroundings. 

Most storefronts were completely destroyed, very few having survived the initial riots as supplies were hoarded and then subsequent demonic raids furthering the damage. One in particular, the glass only having cracked in its frame, stood out. Walking up to the glass the Slayer placed a single hand against a large, still standing shard. Behind the closed window were podiums of toys, kids toys. Stuffed animals of varying shapes and sizes covered the back wall of the store, most ripped in the initial commotion, only those on the topshelf having survived.

Shutting his eyes for a mere second and clenching his fist against the glass he shook his head. This never should have happened, it could have been prevented had they only listened.

“I apologise for the interruption, but your latest weapons modification is complete. I’ll teleport the drone near your location.” Pushing off of the glass and turning slowly he noted the HUD update, the objective being just above his location. 

Climbing up exposed ferroconcrete it didn’t take long for the Slayer to locate the drone, three unwilling mindlessly hitting it with flailing arms. 

“I believe you requested I craft you the Arbalest mod from the fortresses main database.” Giving a faint smile and gesturing thank you, the Slayer took the mod from the unwilling, before finishing them with a single shotgun blast.

Clearing what demons blocked his path as he fought through the remainder of the mall he entered the wide open plaza area, looking up at the gorenest in disbelief. He’d never seen a gorenest larger than those he first encountered on Mars, nests you could easily detoy with a single gunshot, or in the Slayers case, nests you could rip apart with your bare hands. For the first time in what seemed like years, the slayer felt  _ small  _ in comparison.

A sick churning noise could be heard from within the towering mass of flesh, a disgusting gurgle shaking the structure he stood upon and rippling the scorching hot lava below. Appalled by the monstrosity the Slayer snarled behind his visor, this affront to humanity would not stand any longer.

Although he was not initially noted, it did not take long for the imps, revenants and mancubi swarming the area to notice him, the ensuing firefight short albeit merciless. Like a child on Christmas he could not wait to try the gift his companion had crafted him. Charging up a single bolt within his ballista the slayer stopped momentarily, the revenants in the distance closing in, intending on letting the bolt go only when he had a clear line of sight.

As the final mancubus rounded the corner he let go of the trigger with a sliver of childlike glee on his features, the argent projectile finding its target with such precision even the sharpshooters of Illkana would be impressed. Piercing into the mancubi’s flamethrowers the bolt first cracked open the armature, before exploding and ripping the demon's arm clean off. Before it had the chance to cry out in pain a single precision bolt shot pierced its thick skull, its eyes rolling back in its misshapen head and falling backwards into the lava pools below.

Facing the two revenants the slayer dashed into them, his shoulder bashing into one's ribcage, stunning it momentarily. Jumping up and harshly grabbing onto their skulls, a bloodlust roar being the final thing the twisted humanoid demons heard before their skulls were bashed into the others, the pulped mess falling down in front of his combat boots before he dropped the skeletal remains at his feet with little care. 

Having broken into the nest and initiated the reactor startup he tread forth carefully, the walls, floors and ceilings covered in thick fleshy appendages, pulsating as the gorenest did. The heavy pulse of the giant heart situated in the nest's core felt like it was repeatedly hitting the center of the Slayers sternum, each heartbeat of the nest drowning out his own, his thoughts almost becoming lost to the rhythmic trance. 

Other than the heartbeats increasingly uneven and agitated rhythm, his surroundings were eerily quiet, save from the occasional unwilling wandering into him he hadn’t met any resistance for a long while. Finding a locked door where the map indicated none he gestured to VEGA, who immediately responded.

“My sensors tell me another of the spirits soul shards is located just behind these doors, I will open them for you.” Again thanking VEGA for his assistance he looked down as the doors were opening, inspecting his shotgun, before he could wipe a blood splatter off of the stock of the weapon, his head snapped up, greeted by a horrific sight.

Before he could get out of the way, a heavily armoured and armed fist collided with his chestplate, knocking the wind out of him, being sent flying backwards and colliding with a metal wall behind him, dropping his super shotgun in the process. A noticeable dent being left behind as he fell down to the ground on his hands and knees, coughing and gasping for breath.

Breaking through the still opening solid metal doors the twisted mancubus and tyrant hybrid let out a crackling roar, the amalgamation of flesh and metal sickening even the slayer. Covered completely in argent red, oozing cracks and rotting, sagging skin seemingly only kept together by metal staples the monster hulked forwards towards the slayer, who was still trying to catch his lost breath, what air he got putrified by the rotting demon in front of him. The crooked, unevenly grafted horns on the mancubis head scraped against the metal ceiling as the Slayer stood. 

In an attempt to evade the demon long enough to reach his super shotgun that had fallen by the door, he fired a freezing grenade that hit it square in the chest, somehow however it wasn’t stunned, only slowed partially, still approaching at a menacing speed.

Perplexed by the demons resilience he fired of a flurry of micro missiles, staggering it just long enough to skirt around it, grabbing his lost weapon and reloading it with haste. As the mancubus turned towards him he fired two shells, hitting the twisted creature in the face, blood and gore splattering onto his visor, the demon, however, pressed on.

Behind stips of skin that were barely holding onto its face, shining metal and sparking wires could be seen where bone and flesh should be, terrifying glowing red metal eyes now stripped of eyelids seemingly staring into his very soul. 

This had to be Ranaks sick work.

Knowing that anything made out of metal and covered in flesh wouldn’t appreciate a pure plasma shock he stumbled backwards, unholstering his plasma rifle and firing upon the demon with the microwave attachment VEGA had made him only a single mission earlier it howled out in pain, its voice crackling and soon being replaced with a metallic screech as the flesh clinging to the metal framework almost melted away.

Before the Slayer could finish the twisted horror it fell backwards, a portal opening beneath it, the security cameras of the structure seizing their constant blinking, was… was someone watching?

Shaking what blood and guts had plattered onto him off himself he approached the pedestal holding the soul shard he’d fought so hard for. 

Shattering the stone he grabbed the crystal engraved with holy sentinel texts before sending it to the fortress with VEGAs help, the spirit in the slayers prayer chambers looking down at the shard being placed with the rest. 

He smiled gently towards the stars outside the stained glass windows, their light seeming almost familiar, he almost felt like he missed something he never even knew he had.

  
  



	15. Ligria Aria: XV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who counts the decades, anyway?

Waking from yet another restless slumber, Akridon let out a guttural groan as he opened his eyes ever so slightly, his arms wrapped securely around you as you snored away peacefully against his chest. The pale red moonlight that shone into the bedroom from the balcony archways illuminated your, to him, flawless features softly. After everything you'd been through, he felt you deserved the rest. 

Having a rare moment dedicated to his own thoughts he reluctantly sunk into the bedcovers for another minute, nuzzling his face into the top of your hair.

He knew he had to leave soon, he also knew that his recent absence from the frontlines hadn’t gone unnoticed by either the Hell priest Deag Grav or the night sentinels of the citadel. The headhunter was fully aware of how it must look, however, for some reason he doesn’t care what others think of him for once. 

The mind consuming rage that had once driven him forward in battle had _dulled down_ significantly since the passing of Deag Ranak, his constant desire to be feared even more so. 

Events that would earlier have sent him into a blind rage, such as a simple servant's mistakes, became minor annoyances, custodians and knights alike fearing him felt _wrong_ in some strange way. An uneasy feeling would form in his stomach each time he was approached by a weak voiced human, stepping on eggshells so as to not anger him.

With hell's influence weining, the situation on Argent D’Nur was growing more uneasy by the day. Akridon knew that he had to play his part. He’d attempted to behave as he used to around the others in Sentinel Prime, the way he acted before the passing of Deag Nilox, but it was becoming near impossible. 

He couldn’t stand it.

**“I’m going to have to leave you now, but, I hope my bed is at least half as comfortable as you make me out to be.”** Whispering as softly as the deep voiced demon could, he carefully lifted you up and moved you to the other side of the bed, rolling out of and standing up from your shared bed.

Tightening the thick leather straps around his thighs and chest, he looked towards the cloudless night sky above. Clear days on Argent D’Nur were rare even before hell sunk its claws into the planet, it’s hazardous weather patterns having been a major contributing factor to the Sentinel races defensive lifestyle. 

Some part deep down in his chest regretted not being able to share the rare day with you. 

Turning in the doorway on his way out he pauses briefly, looking over at your sleeping form as you moved around in your sleep, assuming your trademark bed cover burrito roll position now that the bed was all yours.

For a second he contemplated waking you up, to say goodbye and that he’d be back as soon as possible, but at the same time, he felt selfish waking you for such a trivial thing, technically, he’d already said goodbye the night before. 

Electing to leave you to your dreams, he stepped out the doors, took the cold metal handle in his hand, waved with the other and closed it as quietly as possible, thinking quietly to himself.

**_“I can see you waving from the balcony already.”_ **

As he turned to walk down the curved stairways leading into the main living space, he saw his one eared companion laying at the bottom of the steps, waiting patiently, as he always had. Akridon smirks for a split second before returning to his usual grim visage. Skallur, happy to see his master awake, raised his head to look at him, his tail wagging from side to side, leaving a sooty arch where the emberlit tail dragged over the stone floor.

As Skallur raised his head, a deep and wide slash across the top of his neck became clearly visible through the flames that somewhat resembles thick fur. 

**“Arev h'er du'uk, na?”** Rubbing at the chest plate that covered his own mortal wound as he walked down the stairs his companion tilted his head, fiery eyes following his hand intently.

When Akridon had reached the bottom of the staircase, Skallur nudged his muzzle into his master's hand, whining softly in an attempt to get him to think of better days. Seconds after having received an affectionate pat on the head, Akridons companion dashed to the far side of the room, retrieving the headhunters mask for him.

**“Damaged and old, just like us.”** Fastening the straps and metal clasp he shook his head lightly, making sure the old thing still did it’s job.

Looking towards your shared chambers exit, Akridon sighs, Skallur softly pushing him forwards towards the candle lit hallways. 

For the first time in decades, the Khan Maykr’s personal headhunter was _nervous_ , he knew exactly who was waiting for him outside of the archways.

Or well, he was _hoping_ they were waiting there. 

Straightening his back, lifting his head up high and pushing his shoulders back, he holstered his weapons, feigning confidence and walked out of his chambers. 

Greeted by a single spear wielding sentinel standing outside his chambers he stops dead in his tracks. 

Perhaps asking them here wasn’t such a good idea after all.

Squinting and clenching his fists, Akridon resumed his walk, not stopping until he was less than an inch from the other, looking down at the knight, surprisingly he didn't budge, instead craning his neck upwards, staring straight back up at him. 

Tension hung heavy in the air surrounding them, the knight being the first to dare speak up.

“It used to be-” choking on his words he collects himself, be it from fear or nerves, he doesn’t know. “It used to be the other way around, remember?”

Clenching his teeth together, the headhunters brows furrowed in confusion mixed with anger, exhaling loudly yet remaining silent. He remembered, somewhere in the back of his tattered mind he knew all too well that it used to be the other way around. 

Shifting his weight from one leg to the other, Akridons expression softens significantly, wishing he could see the expression on the others face as well, their features being completely concealed by the traditional night sentinel helmet worn by those of higher rank.

Having looked down each end of the dead silent hallway they stood in to make sure there were no bystanders, carefully, the headhunter returned his hardened, crimson gaze to the man in front of him.

Clearing his throat, the sentinel attempts to speak to the other again.

“I’m here at your reque-” before the Commander could finish the sentence, Akridons arms wrapped around the other, pulling him closer and into his chest, releasing a trapped breath he didn’t even know he held. Looking over the others head into the distance his arms remained around the other, pulling them close.

Having initially frozen in place, the sentinel dropped his spear to the ground, the echoing clang of metal hitting stone traveling down the corridors, embracing the headhunter in return. Even though it was beyond uncomfortable with them both wearing heavy armor, they couldn’t care less.

Realizing the hug was being reciprocated, Akridon’s embrace tightened, his voice faltering slightly.

**“Brother.”**

“Akridon…” Sighing into his older brothers embrace, he took a moment to collect himself before continuing. “I didn’t know what to think when I saw your message.” The headhunter shook his head and then placed it against an open palm, realizing how panicked the last second transmission would have looked to the other. Aedaric let go of his brother reluctantly, removing his helmet and dropping it to the floor next to his abandoned weapon. Akridon placed a heavy hand on the other's shoulder. “I thought... We all thought your mind was lost.”

Offering an inquisitive look, Akridon didn’t fully understand what his younger brother implied. **“We? Who other than you would worry for me?”** Aedaric gave a mournful scowl, the resemblance between the two when Akridon still lived had been undeniable. If he had still been alive, is this how he would have looked?

Putting his own hand on the one resting on his shoulder, mimicking his older brother he looked around. “All of us, brother. You may not see it but we all still consider you one of us, a Night Sentinel at heart.”

**“I’m not… who I used to be, Aedaric.”** Both paused for a mere second, processing what they were telling each other.

“That may be so, but that doesn’t change what you were, what you believed in and what **you** taught all of **us** the **second** we stepped into your halls.” Shaking his head, Akridon gave a small smile in return, his younger brother always had to say something clever, even if it didn’t always make sense most of the time. Not sure what to reply, silence fell between the two again before Aedaric hesitantly broke it, looking up with mournful eyes. “I’ve- I’ve missed you, brother.” 

Not hesitating for a single second the headhunter squeezed his brother's shoulder reassuringly. **“And I you.”** Even with his face partially obscured by his mask, the younger sibling could see the honest smile on his brother's torn face.

“So, before **you** get all sentimental on me, I know the _Khan Maykr’s great headhunter_ has better things to do than fraternize with us _mortals_.” Both chuckling they backed away from each other. “Why am I here, Akridon?”

**“I ask that you guard my chambers until I return, it’s not a command as I know our ranks are equal, I’m asking my** **_brother_ ** **for help.”** Choosing his words carefully, Akridons tone showed no hint of humour. 

Picking up his spear and helmet the Commander walked around the headhunter, giving him a look up and down before putting his helmet back on, nodding as he placed himself in front of the marble archway leading into your shared quarters.

“Is she..?” Not needing to finish the sentence Akridon gave his younger brother a pleading look, hoping he didn’t have to justify his actions further. “Loud and clear,” Stopping for a second he hoped this would go over well. “Hall Master Sylleus.” 

Akridon raises a single brow, a scowl becoming apparent on his features, as he raises a hand to correct the Commander, he caught himself. A memory that warmed his pierced heart like the first ray of sunlight after a freezing winter night echoed through his clouded mind.

**_“I told you already, demons don’t use names, just what they stand out for. Most simply refer to me as the headhunter.”_ ** _Not seeing what she was hinting at he raised a brow down at the much smaller human._

_“I know, I know, but do you not notice that you call demons them and sentinels us ?” Snarling he closed his eyes as she did, she had a point, he couldn’t deny it. The silence that followed was deafening as his mind wandered. He’s a monster, a demon that slaughters millions._

_What does she see that he does not?_

_Pressing his tattered lips into her hair he finally muttered the name he hadn’t heard in decades._

**_“Akridon Sylleus.”_ **

Akridon slowly but surely lowered his hand, Aedaric visibly relaxing.

**“Thank you, Commander. I believe I’ll need to speak to an old _friend_ in the cells, before meeting with the Deag.”** Even though the eldest couldn’t see it, the younger brother's facial expression was one of heartwarming joy. Confident that you were in safe hands Akridon felt he could finally leave, turning and walking down the dim candlelit halls.

Aedaric watched as his brother left from afar, his heavy and determined steps echoing throughout the corridors he walked through. Following behind him was his most trusted companion and somehow, even though the remainder of the beast was scarlet red, it was leaving pale blue paw prints behind.

* * *

A single ARC Scientist approached the Slayer as he exited the elevator leading into the top floor of the ARC complex. Nervous, he guided him towards the hell crucible, located in the center of the tower, powering the remaining machinery that was still intact.

Explaining that Samuel assumed the Slayer would come retrieve the Hell blade eventually he gulped hesitantly, watching as the Slayer, without a word, yanked the crucible free from the powerstation it was held within. Stopping before walking up the stairs into Haydens private office, the Slayer turned towards the young scientist, pointing at him, then the door. 

It was not a suggestion, but a wordless order, and he was not about to disobey the only one Hell feared. Nodding, the young man stumbled away, nearly tripping over multiple boxes and containers scattered on the floor in the process.

Entering Haydens personal laboratory he made a beeline towards his mangled and torn apart torso, a single arm and his head the only thing still connected to it. 

Disregarding the scientist that urged caution he snarled at the ripped apart cyborg, the last time they’d met he’d stabbed him in the back and stolen the crucible that he’d fought through literal Hell to retrieve.

_“I hope you feel this.”_

Yanking him free of cables, wires and interconnectors the Slayer did so with enough force that the lifeless Dr. Hayden slammed into the cold metal floor, lifting him by the arm, partially amused. 

Letting him dangle in front of his visor in humiliation his victory was cut short, as the ground started to shake beneath his heavy combat boots, the remaining people in the room evacuating instantly, gone in the blink of an eye.

**_Warning: Demonic Presence threat level 5 entering main laboratory._ **

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do hope you enjoyed the read! 🥺 I'd love to hear your thoughts! ❤
> 
> Translation cheat sheet for you: 
> 
> Arev h'er du'uk, na? - Both of us, huh?


	16. Ligria Aria XVI

_The freezing and bitter winds of this year's first winter storm bit harshly at the two knights that had stood watch outside the walls of Sentinel Prime. Wading through thick and freshly fallen snow that easily reached above their knees they followed a faint trickling trail of crimson into the dark forests surrounding the holy city._

_Carrying wraith lit lanterns to light their way through the night they knew they had to be quick, for the still falling snow was rapidly covering the trail with a fresh layer._

_Seeing the blood grow fresher with each passing minute, the two knew they were closing in on whoever had been injured. The footsteps that accompanied the blood splattered snow grew shorter in strides and a hunched over figure could be seen limping aimlessly in the distance, holding their arms close to their chest in an effort to retain some body heat._

_The eldest of the knights, a senior of the guard, took his helmet off before calling out to the strangely dressed man, his breath visible in front of him as he spoke._

_“Trev, sur'us! Nortiek vol la'x torad h'er sultagenta!”_

_Caught in a hypothermic daze, the outsider turned slowly raising a hand to shield his not yet adjusted eyes from the light of the torches._

_“They were here, I saw them!” Looking at each other, the two knights shared a moment of mutual confusion, the marine in front of them clenching his fists together as if strangling an invisible enemy while staring straight at them. An insatiable rage burning behind hooded eyelids._

_“N' keval sur sok'tharen, norvi'ek? Tu sur baertik v keive'in?”_ _Calling out again they approached with extreme caution, their weapons in hand._

_“They were, right here!” Now screaming, the stranger looked desperate, as if all certainties had faded into the void of night._

_“Lavo'kr Verak’n, heo'va delav du' keovend.”_ _The Lord at his side nodded._

_“Tenar, ka'nevika nov'as.”_ _Yes, Hall Guardian._ _As the other was contracting command, the stranger approached them, dragging his feet through the snow, enticed by the torches and the heat they emanated._ _Yes, Hall Guardian._

_“Nortiek ekan veru-”_ _Before the unmasked knight could finish his sentence, the stranger keeled over, falling first to his knees, and then he fell into the snow, unmoving._

As the hulking demon kicks the Slayer down the steps in Hayden's office, he hits the ground unceremoniously, accompanied by a loud crash as the weapons strapped to his back take the brunt of the fall. Scoffing, the marauder sneers at the now much smaller man, dead and blackened eyes showing no emotion except unrelenting rage. 

Looking upon the man turned demon that he’d once called his brother in arms, the Slayer couldn’t help but feel a twisting strain within his heart. Not even he could have predicted the gruesome sight before him, eyes trailing across the veins, scars and open wounds that littered the demon's chest and arms. 

Where there once would have been a chestplate covering his heart, deep and oozing claw marks across marred skin made it evident that it had been ripped off before even entering into the ARC tower. The leather straps that had kept it in place now tattered, barely clinging to the demon's shoulders and chest. The seared wound that had once ended the headhunters life had been torn open once again, pentagrams and mind bending demonic writings freshly carved around it, a sickly rasping accompanying each breath the demon took.

**“Saving you from freezing to death that night was a mistake, Slayer.”** Speaking hollow words, he watched as the other attempted to stand back up, bringing down a heavily armoured foot on his back, earning a pained grunt from the Slayer as he hit the floor once again. **“I could have spared my home from your tyranny.”**

Furious, the Slayer aimed the grenade launcher on his back towards the demon now towering over him, an ice bomb knocking the headhunter off of him. Acting fast he rolls away, delivering a powerful kick to the others knee, bending it backwards. The headhunters pained howl echoed against steel walls as he gripped his injured knee, bringing down his argent axe into the metal floor, red sparks scattering across it. Glaring at the Slayer as he reached for his ballista.

**“Thankfully, it’s not too late to fix that mistake!”**

_Watching in awe as the outsider floored yet another Argenta prisoner, the sentinels watching the spectacle from the stands cheered him on. Caring little for their praise, the outsider simply pushed forward onto the next prisoner that dared attack him._

_The knights that had dragged him to the arena through the freezing winter storms of Sentinel Prime watched from the sidelines, accompanying the high priest Deag Grav that had instructed them to bring him there._

_Fighting like a barbarian with no grace, elegance or trace of afterthrough, the shorter of the two knights that had addressed the strange looking man stood with his arms crossing his chest, watching with curiosity as the man fought off any other prisoners._

_“Such a graceless brute, he won’t last a single battle on the frontlines.” Lord Verak’n scoffed loudly, unimpressed by the savage man's ways. Akridon glanced towards the other, then back at the outsider, observing his every move._

_“I’m not so sure, Verak’n. I feel like he has much to teach us.” The Lord rolled his eyes in response, giving the Senior Hall Guardian a pat on the back as he turned to walk away from the spectacle. No matter what Akridon said, Verak’n was sure the stranger would die in the mud of the battlefield, along with the other disgraced prisoners he’d been bunched together with._

A bloodlust roar echoed down the halls of the compound as the marauder threw his crimson axe towards the Slayer from the farside of the room. Hunting him like a rabid dog, the Slayers continued evasion and refusal to engage in combat infuriated him beyond measure. In reality, the marine was looking for any trace of humanity left within the demon, a trace he could reason with. 

With a heavy heart, the rational part of the Slayer's mind came to terms with the fact that the man he once held had died the day of the assault on hell, his soul was the only thing left worth saving.

The marauders axe, having missed the marine, instead crashed into the servers embedded into behind him, sparks from both axe and hardware shooting wildly into the room before the lights finally flickered, and died.

Like a hell beast waiting for its prey in the shadows, the demon prowled around the cold, clinical office, unamused by the Slayer using the dark as a veil.

**“Skulking in the shadows was never like you, Slayer, did you lose your edge already?”** Letting out a twisted laugh, the headhunter grabbed the axe by the bottom of the handle and yanked it out of the circuitry, dimly lighting the room with its argent blades, as his recently blackened eyes provided little night vision. **“Why won’t you fight me, Slayer? I thought we were past hiding in the dark?”**

Grinding his teeth together, the Slayer refuses to listen to anything the demon says, breaking out from behind the pillar he was resting against. Firing a ballista bolt aimed right at the others head, shooting his mask clean off, a bloody firefight finally broke out.

_“You shouldn’t be here, outsider!” Pressing his boot dont onto the others neck, Lord Verak’n had the outsider pinned down into the sands of the training halls._

_Remaining quiet, the outsider grabbed onto the Lords other foot, yanking it out from underneath him unexpectedly. Both now on the ground, the smaller man climbed on top of the knight, relentlessly delivering blow after blow to the others helmet._

_Shouting at them both, the newly inaugurated first commanding hall master ripped the outsider off of the other and tossed him to the side, Verak’n quickly scrambling to his feet and away from the rabid outsider._

_“I’m telling you Sylleus, this is a mistake!” Shoving his finger into the elders chest, Akridon scowled at the obvious questioning of their king's direct orders._

_“Whether he should be here or not, is not our choice to make. I am to train him by order of King Novik, and we need all the men we can get out there.” Grabbing the others finger, he bent it backwards harshly and without care, the Lord letting out a pained yelp as he pulled the hand away._

_“Don’t let your personal relationships get in the way of tradition,_ **_Sylleus_ ** _!” Looking towards the outsider he seethed a final word. “You are not, and you will never be, one of us.” Storming off and out of the halls. Akridon watched him leave and sighed into his hands before reaching down to the smaller man that had stayed on the ground, gladly taking the taller man's hand he pulled himself, Akridon gently placing a hand on the others chin._

_“I told you to avoid him, nevas da'rr.”_

Losing his footing as the headhunter threw his axe in front of him just before dashing, the Slayer stumbled trying to avoid the argent blades, giving the demon just enough time to catch up to him.

Ripping his super shotgun out of his hands, the Slayer is yanked up into the air by his clawed hand nearly crushing his windpipe in the process. Void black and corrupted eyes finally able to gaze into those of the Slayer, he snarls. Screaming against the amber visor and pulling him towards him and in a fit of rage, the headhunter slammed the back of the Slayers head into the metal wall behind him with each spoken sentence.

**“You were nothing.”** Shutting his eyes, the slayer reached for his utility belt.

**“You are nothing.”** Pulling the pin on a flashbang he’d picked up from a dead ARC guard he gripped it tightly.

**“And that’s all... You’ll ever.. Be!”**

_As they both sat across from each other in the bloodied and roughed up sands of the training halls, Lord Verak’n gave the outsider a perplexed look._

_“No matter how hard I beat you down, you always just have to get back up, don’t you, outsider?” His gaze carried a mix of both confusion and admiration, he awaited the others' response. The outsider didn't reply, he simply gave the other a knowing smile, his split lip causing him pain, but he didn’t mind._

_His training had been just as, if not more, brutal as it had been for any other Night Sentinel before him, bruises, scars and cuts evidence of the trials he had gone through._

_Akridon smirks from the sidelines, proud of what the outsider had become under his wing._

_Standing, the outsider offers the Lord a hand that’s reluctantly taken. Patting Verak’n on the back, the both breathed an airy chuckle._

_“I may have, misjudged you, outsider...” Raising a brow towards the lower knight, Akridon lets out a quiet sound of knowing acknowledgment._

Letting go of the Slayer, the dazed headhunter howled in pain, desperately trying to regain his footing after the blast, but failing completely, falling down on one knee. Seizing the moment, the Slayer rips the axe from the demon's hands, lifting it above his head.

Looking up, he could for a split moment see a twinge of pain in the Slayer's eyes before the blunt end of his battle axe was brought down upon him. 

Accompanied by a sickening crunch, the demon's vision faded to black. Feeling his body slump onto the cold metal floor and unable to move his mind finally shut down, all sounds, sights and smells vanishing into nothingness. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Traditional translation cheat sheet. ❤
> 
> Trev, sur'us! Nortiek vol la'x torad h'er sultagenta! - Hey, you there! Stop in the name of the king!  
> N' keval sur sok'tharen, norvi'ek? Tu sur baertik v keive'in? - Is that you bleeding, stranger? Do you need a healer?  
> Lavo'kr Sash, heo'va delav du' keovend. - Lord Sash, report this to command.  
> Nortiek ekan veru - Stop right ther-  
> Nevas da'rr - My sun.
> 
> I'd really love to hear what you think ❤😙👉👈


	17. Ligria Aria XVII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A rude awakening.

Behind closed eyes, you slowly danced together under the stars, you and Akridon quietly hum songs together, forgetting about the chaotic world around you. 

In the distance, you could hear someone call out, in an attempt to ignore it you shut your eyes tighter. As you feel around you find yourself no longer gently holding onto the Hall Masters arms, instead, the stars have faded and you pull the bedcovers over your head.

“Wake up!” Feeling someone shake you in another attempt to wake you up, you groaned, wanting nothing more than to return to your blissful dream. The hushed, gravelly voice grew louder, and you were now at least semi-awake. “You have to get up!”

The voice sounded somewhat familiar, yet different... somehow. Knowing no man would dare venture into the headhunters personal chambers, you took a gamble.

“Akridon…?” Quietly saying the name as if it was a question, while still somewhat groggy, you awaited a reply.

Hearing a muffled snort it slowly dawned upon you that it wasn’t Akridon standing by your shared bed.

“No, I’m the Sylleus with the looks.” Throwing the covers off of you and down towards the foot of the bed, you were instantly blinded by a bright blue light. Scrambling out of bed and falling onto the floor on the opposite side in an attempt to get away from whoever woke you, your eyes gradually adjusted to the light.

Now standing at the foot of the bed was a fully armoured Night Sentinel, a deactivated silver spear strapped to his back, an argent lit torch in his right hand and his left carefully extended towards you.

Putting two and two together, you concluded that this must be Akridon’s brother.

“We have to go, now.” Unconvinced, you stayed in place.

“Where’s Akridon?” Seeing the other falter, if only for a moment, you felt an uneasy feeling forming in your chest, holding a hand to it in an attempt to calm your still racing heart.

“Get up.” He motioned towards the door that led out into the halls with his whole arm before returning his hand in an offer to help you up, in an attempt to stress the urgency of the situation.

Taking it pensively, he helped you to your feet.

Outside, a thick fog covered Sentinel Prime's forests and walkways, the only light offered being that of the planter red moon, Sok'tha’rr. The walkways and halls that were constantly lit by argent flames, no matter the time of day, had all gone dark, lending the city a terrifying and otherworldly feeling.

Never before had you seen it this dark, the uneasy feeling settling in your chest growing stronger by the minute.

Motioning out the door, Aedaric once again stressed the need to leave, you however weren’t having any of it without more information. Dressed only in a pair of tights and Akridons old, oversized, knitted sweater hanging off of your shoulders much like a dress would, you stood in place.

“Where is he?” Short and to the point, the other shook his head and sighed. Taking off his helmet with one hand and strapping it onto the leather utility belt around his waist, catching a breath you realize just how similar the two brothers were in comparison to each other. Aedaric’s features were laced with sorrow, his brows furrowed together as his previously braided hair fell out of the updo that the helmet had kept in place.

“We really don’t have the ti-” Refusing yet again, you interrupted him.

“We do have the time if you want me to go anywhere with you.” Rubbing his face into his palms he groaned.

“Something’s happened, and I promised Akridon I’d keep you safe.” Concerned, you felt as if something terrible had happened.

“What do you mean someth-” It was his turn to cut you off, trying to get you to understand the urgency of the situation at hand.

“Look, we  **really** don't have time for this, we have to go, now!” Letting out a worried whine, you reluctantly took the knife you had been gifted from your nightstand. He was Akridon’s brother after all, who else were you to trust on this planet if not him?

Walking out the door and following Aedaric, you both set out of the chambers and into the hallways of the, now nearly pitchblack, citadel.

Had it not been for the torch the Commander carried, you both would have been stumbling in the dark where the moon's light could not reach, the light on his armour having been dimmed to nearly nothing compared to the light you’d seen on the armour belonging to the sentinels in the mess halls.

“Why… are the lights out, Aedaric?” Slowing momentarily the commander looked back towards you.

“Maintenance.” Said with a brief and faint smile on his lips, you realized he’d orchestrated the whole thing.

Rushing down half familiar walkways, stairs and shadowed halls, you grew increasingly weary of where you were headed, the worry in your chest slowly turning into a sickening pit in your stomach as you remembered just where this pathway led, and when you’d first walked it.

Descending down a final flight of stairs, out of breath and sick with worry, you stopped halfway, seeing what lay just ahead.

“I’m not… I’m not going to that place again unless you tell me what happened to Akridon.” Aedaric, noticing your footsteps slowing and eventually stopping, looked up towards you from the bottom of the staircase, then at the old and rusted gates on the other side of the bridge.

Gripping onto the cold stone railings, a gust of wind seemingly chilled you to the bone.

Slowly ascending the stairs, Aedaric approached with caution, you wondered if he knew what you’d seen in there, what you’d heard, the screams of starving humans destined for slaughter. Finally reaching you after what felt like an eternity, he stopped two steps down from you, still taller than you even though you had the high ground.

The brief moment of science between the two of you was deafening, the only thing audible in the distance being the holy waterfalls of Sentinel Prime and the gargoyles, screeching from far away. The light of the torch he held cast sullen shadows across his features, clenching his eyes shut and hanging his head in defeat.

“I don’t… I don’t know.” Gripping onto the railings harder, if even possible, your throat tightening as tears threatened to fall from the corners of your eyes.

“What do you mean you don’t know.” Furrowing your brows, sick with worry.

“Akridon had a plan, he was to speak to the Slayer but then, his comms signal went dead.... an hour before he left Argent D’Nur. He was supposed to be back hours ago.” Trying to rationalize all of this in your head you stuttered slightly.

“Maybe his comms broke on the way there?” Shaking his head, Aedaric disagreed.

“The only way they would break is if his entire chestplate got ripped apart, Argentan tevy'rr doesn’t just accidentally break.”

Reaching out and wrapping an arm around his shoulders you pulled him towards you, hugging him tightly in an effort to calm both of your nerves, mainly your own as you felt you were starting to shake.

“I only just got my brother back.” 

“Do you know if he’s really…?” Pulling away from your one armed embrace he shook his head yet again.

“I don’t want to think about it. What I do know is that I promised him that I’d keep you safe.” Looking down at your feet the heartache you felt refused to let go, a metal wire threatening to snap wrapping around your heart. Akridon truly cared that much for you? “Right now.” Snapping back to reality you listened to what he had to say. “I have to get you out of here, and away from Grav’s reach. The fastest way to do that, is to go through the prisons and into the command centre.”

Pointing across the bridge, and then towards a large building in the distance you followed his hand. On the other side of the carved stone bridge, decorated with intricate metal details, you’d stood not too long ago, starving, scared but most importantly, free.

Forcing yourself to look into the hellhole you’d once inhabited, you nodded wearily.

“Is there really, no other way?”

“No, I’m sorry to have to ask you to do this.” Motioning for him to lead the way, you both descended down the stairs side by side, slowly crossing the bridge and building up the courage to head on inside, you tuned.

Behind you was the place you’d called home, where you’d studied Argenta and their history, where he’d kept you safe.

Understanding your hesitation, Aedaric slowed you both to a stop before entering the rusted gates, a leather clad hand coming to rest at your farthest shoulder, remaining there for a brief while and holding onto you in reassurance.

“You’ll see your home again, I promise.” Straightening your back and holding your head up high, facing down your worst nightmare you sighed heavily.

“Is it far?”

“I know the fastest way through the walkways.” Recognizing his avoidance to your question, you decided it probably wasn’t worth pushing, if he said it’s the fastest way, it is. Taking a final deep breath of fresh air, Aedaric opened the gates while pulling you tighter to his side. “Do you have an older brother?”

Shaking your head you looked up towards the knight with furrowed brows, the other offered a comforting smile in return.

“Well, you do now.”

  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a little birthday present, from me to you. ❤
> 
> Thank you all for the support I've gotten along the way, and I hope you'll stay for the ride.


	18. Ligria Aria XVIII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A shard of hope.

Having held your breath longer than what would normally be considered humanly possible, you let it out with a disgusted huff, gagging and coughing as you took another.

The unforgiving stench of rotting blood was seeping into every piece of clothing you were wearing, clinging to both the fabric and your hair.

Sputtering yet again as a particularly foul stench made its way up your nostrils, Aedaric tightened the arm that was wrapped around your shoulders.

“I can only agree.”

Despite having come quite a bit into the decrepit and darkened prisons, you had yet to encounter live prisoners, cells previously overpopulated now laid bare, crimson stains and rotting gore the only trace of them ever having any inhabitants previously.

“Where is everyone?” Covering your mouth and nose with the sleeve of your borrowed sweater in a desperate attempt to keep the stench out of your mouth sadly didn’t help much.

While you dreaded having to walk past pleading humans begging for their life as you had before, this somehow felt even worse. Empty cells reminding you that out of all of them, you might have been the only one that got out, their final cries as you were escorted out seemingly echoing throughout your mind and down blood stained corridors.

A single man's voice finding its way through the echo, you fell into deep thought as Aedaric escorted you onwards. 

Looking around you, you felt something akin to a small shard of hope nest in your chest.

_ “Was he still here?” _

“Not many escape the Gladiators slaughter, high priest Deag Grav makes sure of that.” Holding the torch lighting your way towards the haunting alcoves, a sullen scowl clearly visible on his weathered features. “I can’t believe I’ve been supporting this for all this time.”

“You never really supported it though, did you?” Meeting his gaze as he looked down upon you, shaking his head.   
  


“Never.”

“Then you have nothing to feel guilty about. You and Akridon are similar in that way I think…” Intrigued, the other looked upon you more intently, slowing his steps so that you could keep up more easily.

“We both feel guilt?”

“You’re both victims of someone else's actions, yet you both blame yourselves.” Falling quiet, Aedaric reflected on your words briefly, the only audible sounds being those of your own footsteps echoing down the halls.

The Imps and Unwilling that had previously wandered the bloody pathways were nowhere to be seen, you suppose that with no prisoners there’s no need for guards, there’s a planet to invade, after all.

Once again looking down the alcoves you walked past, Aedaric picked up on your behaviour, looking in the same directions as you did.

“Are you... looking for something?” Mumbling, you continued the search.

“My cell.” Your mind screamed for you to look away from the haunting sights surrounding you, as you did before, but your heart told you that you had to look for him.

“We’re not going heading that way, don’t worry.” Shaking your head in disagreement you nudged him down a familiar hallway, you both slowing down significantly, this path leading away from the command centre you were supposed to be heading towards. 

“I need to go there.” Stopping dead in his tracks, the knight brought the torch down between you both, towering shadows being cast on the walls surrounding the two of you.

“Why? The command centre is this way.” Pointing down the corridors you were already walking down, seeming genuinely surprised at your sudden determination at  _ going the wrong way _ , considering your previous eagerness to get through this place as fast as possible.

“I- I have to know if he’s still there. He said he’d been here for years, maybe they’d spared him this time too?” Fumbling with the long sleeves of your sweater, desperately clinging to that small feeling of hope you had left. Looking for anything that could make the current situation brighter, even by a fraction.

“No one is kept alive down here for that long.” Raising an eyebrow he looked at you questioningly.

“Tytharon was.” Inhaling sharply, Aedaric started coughing profusely, letting go of your shoulders in order to hit his fist against his chest as he bent over. Confused as to why he was choking you slapped what little part of his back that wasn’t covered by tevy'rr metal until he took a few shaky breaths.

“Tytharon?!” Looking up at you in disbelief, still hunched over, you offered him a meek smile, patting his back gently.

“Yes, Tytharon.” Questioning you about his appearance, his tattoos and his character, you continuously nodded as to confirm each statement the knight made, the perplexed look on Aedarics face shifting from confusion, to disbelief, then finally, a small smile spread across his lips.

“Don’t go giving me hope I can’t afford to lose, little one.” Straightening his back he let out a few final coughs, into the crook of his elbow. Turning with you, the two of you set out to find your old cell.

\--------

As you both found yourselves nearing the cellblock you’d spent so long in, Aedaric called out into the quiet dark.

“Tytharon, valeor!” Receiving no reply, he tried again, covering your ears before he did so.

Both of you remained as quiet as mice, listening intently for any sign of life.

Nothing.

Shaking your heads you headed towards the next cellblock, a distant, quiet and repetitive clanging sound that hadn’t been there before stopping you both in your tracks. Looking at each other, then back at where you’d come from, you both darted back down the walkway. 

Stench and stains be damned, hope was all you had left. 

Coming to a sliding halt, you gripped at the bars you’d once sat on the other side of, Aedaric behind you soon after.

On the floor sat the familiar man you’d previously come to call your friend. Tired, thin, and disheveled, but alive, having kicked the rusted metal bars with his feet in a desperate attempt to get your attention before you’d continued walking on without him.

The tired smile offered by the other was one filled with both sorrow and joy, tears brimming his eyes.

“You weren’t going to leave this old man here, were you?” Listening to the others cracking and raspy words, Aedaric let out a breathy laugh before he leaned onto the fragile and rusted bars which screamed under the added weight, looking upon each other in shared disbelief.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, valeor.” Grabbing the bars roughly and shaking them, it was clear to the group that they weren’t fit for keeping anything in anymore, the fittings both above and below flaking apart, screws and nails snapping off between loud clangs.

Backing away from the knight you watched as they final fittings holding the rusted door in place snapped, Aedaric throwing the bent and broken door onto the floor outside the cell, the loud noise enough to startle even the dead.

Brushing the rust and dried blood off of his leather gloves, he reached out a hand to help Tytharon up, surprised when you offered yours as well. Finally standing again, he turned towards you.

“You’re alive, sister?” The shard of hope previously nested in your chest seemingly pierced your heart, a quiet laugh involuntarily erupting from your throat, tears of joy following suit soon after. Reaching out, you hugged the two sentinels, still laughing and sniffling into their chests.

Chuckling, the others patted your back carefully, not quite sure how to react to the whole situation.

“I appreciate the little moment we’re having, but we’re on a tight schedule here.” Pulling away you wiped your tears with the back of your hand.

“I’m sorry, I just- I just needed something to go right for once.” Letting go of the two, the three of you started planning what the next move would be.

With Tytharon being too weak to fight, or travel for that matter, Aedaric sent him back to the citadel with what little rations he had brought with him, arranging for a troop of night sentinels to bring him to safety as soon as he left the prisons, he would regroup with you later once his strength had returned.

Having said goodbye for the time being, the thin yet still intimidating sentinel had wandered out into the dark, carrying your torch to light his way, you and Aedaric lighting the way with his argent spear, while it did not shine as bright as the flames, it would have to do.

After what felt like another hour of walking through identical hallways, you finally arrived at the command centre, you and your companion taking a couple of deep breaths as you finally exited out of rusted prison gates and headed up the pathway to the intimidating structure. 

Resembling Novik’s castle located in Exultia, the grand gates leading into the fortress demanded respect, ancient, sturdy wooden gates opening at Aedarics command. 

Sitting down at one of the few still functioning consoles, he set to work at finding and connecting to the gateway he knew led off of Argent D’Nur, even if it was a long shot.

“Where are we going to go…?” Marveling at the stained glass windows telling countless tales of bravery and conquest, you asked the question into the cold, open air.

“We’re- I’m going to try to connect to the portal located on the Keovend Grevux, the only sentinel void station left in operation.” Pausing for a moment he ran his fingers through his beard before leaning back in his chair. “Hopefully, we won’t have a problem once we get there.” Not convinced by Aedaric’s words, you carefully tread over a multitude of different cables and exposed wiring on the wooden floor in order to look at what he was doing over his shoulder.

“Hopefully…?” Echoing his words back to him, you awaited further explanation.

“The Keovend Grevux is under the command of the Slayer.” Furrowing your brows you squinted down at Aedaric who seemed to be avoiding your gaze. 

“The same Slayer that Akridon was going to speak with?” He nodded. “Before his comms went dead?” Another nod. “The same Slayer… that tore through hell, slaughtering every single demon he came across..?”

“I know how it must sound, I know. But Akridon went silent before he’d even be able to get to the Slayer. If anything, he might know what happened to my brother…” Scoffing lightly you couldn’t deny that he had a point, even if it was far fetched. It seemed to you like the Slayer had found Akridon first, but then again, who were you to judge someone you’d never met? Before you could utter another word, the console came to life, several messages opening up on the screen.

“We’ve got clearance from the Grevux, now or never, little one.”

Activating the portal with a series of clearance commands, bright blue sparks crackled to life within the portal rings that emerged from the floor that opened up beneath the tower. The enormous structure keeping them in place creaked as if it had not been used for decades. Cracking together loudly, the sparks swirl together in a mesmerizing pattern, until finally, it stabilizes.

Walking ahead of you, Aedaric climbed the steps leading up to the portal, turning before entering to offer you his hand. Following suit you turn one last time before taking his hand, hesitating slightly.

Safe, he wanted you to be safe.

Taking his hand he offers a reassuring smile, stepping through the portal with you.

Blinking rapidly, you immediately lose your footing, stumbling out the other side of the portal, you surely would have fallen had Aedaric not caught you. Leaning down to see if you were doing alright, you wave him off, slightly embarrassed. 

Both of you standing up straight, you're met by the gaze of a terrifying figure. Before you stood a fully armoured marine, easily a whole foot taller than you, with an enormous crossbow looking gun aimed right at you and Aedaric.

“Will, valeor.” Seeing the other ease the grip on their weapon and letting go with one hand, you let out a trapped breath, your heart ramming against your ribs.

Raising his fist to his chest, Aedaric does the same. Seeing you at his side, the Slayer sets the weapon down, leaning it against one of the many consoles surrounding you both. Signing towards the knight you’re caught slightly off guard. The great Slayer was mute? Aedaric looked as perplexed as you must have looked, tilting his head before a robotic voice broke the silence between the three of you.

“He asks that you come with him.” Looking around yet seeing no one else around, both of you nod towards nothing in particular.

Silently following the Slayer through the fortress as he’d asked, reflecting on the stories the walls could tell if they talked, you’re brought before two metallic gates situated under an enormous yet torn apart atlan. Brought out of your daze by the loud ringing of the metal locks unhinging, you perk up.

Entering a small arena-like area, littered with ancient structures crumbling onto water covered stone floors, a breath is caught in your throat.

Tied in chains, bloodied and battered, there he was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smol translation: Valeor - Brother 🥰
> 
> Happy new year to all of you! ❤🥳


	19. Ligria Aria XVIIII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's only even been one thing on his mind, you.

“Akridon!” Both of you gasped, Aedaric hurriedly jumping down into the open arena in order to help you down the moss covered and jagged rocks. 

Slowly and carefully, you climbed down the edge of the small cliffside, eventually letting go of the edge as soon as Aedaric gave you the all clear. After he’d caught you at the bottom, the commander pushed you along with him towards the beaten demon, chained up on the farside of the ruins.

As you dragged your feet through the shallow and surprisingly clear waters, you began to see just how badly Akridon had been hurt in the fight. Cuts and wounds covered his entire exposed upper body, his chestplate having been ripped from the straps keeping it in place, leaving bright red streaks where the leather and metal had scraped against his skin.

As you fell to your knees in front of Akridon, you looked at him up and down. He appeared completely unconscious, his eyes completely closed yet small unintelligible mumbles in Argenta leaving his lips. The cut through them had been reopened slightly, making you visibly cringe at the sight as you imagined just how painful that injury alone would have been.

Cupping the hall masters head in your hands, lifting it ever so gently as to inspect the damages, you gave a smell, pained smile. In a poor attempt to cover up your sniffling as tears ran freely down your cheeks, you laughed softly. They weren’t just tears of sorrow, but tears of joy, happy you hadn’t completely lost him. 

_“What would I have done without you?”_

“Serean, Akridon.” Aedaric chuckled off to the side of you. Having tasked himself with inspecting his older brother's injuries he shook his head in bewilderment, the confused glance you gave in return prompting further explanation.

“You sound just like our father.” As you let Akridon’s head rest in your hand, you used the other sleeve to wipe the tears from your cheeks, then nudged the commander's shoulder playfully.

“Perhaps if either of you spent more time with me, I could fix that.”

“Your accent doesn’t need fixing.” He returned to his brother's wounds, sighing as he did so. “This idiot however, does.”

As you both got to work checking the demon over, making small comments about what needed to be done to the best of your abilities, you broke the silence.

“I’ve been spending a lot of time in the kitchens with Polgi, he’s been helping me learn when Akridon is away.” Aedaric smirked knowingly, having been there himself once.

“My men told me there was a new girl helping out in the mess hall, apparently she’d punched the headhunter so hard her wrist was bandaged for over a week. That couldn't possibly have been you, could it?” Always one to try to brighten up a dire looking situation, he nudged back, winking as he did.

“He told me to!” The commander raised his hands in front of him in mock innocence.

“Not saying he didn’t deserve it!” Aedaric stood, determined to retrieve some much needed medical supplies for his older brother. Guided by the pleasant robotic assistant from earlier, he’d walked off into a portal that had opened on the other side of the arena.

Slowly resting Akridon’s head against the stone pillar he was chained to, you turned to watch the portal close once Aedaric had left, only now noticing that the Slayer had remained on the ledge you’d both climbed down from, unmoving.

Offering a meek thank you, unsure if he could even hear you, the Slayer nodded before quietly turning back into the elevator, leaving you alone with Akridon.

The area was illuminated by several flickering Argent flames scattered around the arenas edges, but there wasn’t much to see. Spiked chains and wrought iron cages hung from the cave like ceilings, some inhabited by seemingly ancient, unfamiliar skeletons.

The crumbled stone structure that took up the majority of the space within the arena had all but fallen apart, wooden supports and beams having rotted away overtime leaving it impossible to determine what it might have looked like.

Behind you, Akridon had stirred slightly, grumbling before he returned back to his previous, unmoving, state.

“Don’t you worry, my love. We’ll help you get better.” You pushed your forehead against his, careful as to avoid hurting yourself on one of his horns. “Everything’s going to be ok, just rest here with me.” As you ran your thumbs across his cheekbones, you let out a concerned sigh, somewhat doubting your own words considering how badly wounded he had been. 

It was going to be a long road to recovery.

Spooked by a sudden cold breeze wisping past you, you shuddered slightly yet kept your eyes on Akridon, pulling away from him.

“That was fast, did you find everything you needed?” Expecting Aedaric’s reply yet receiving none, speaking as you turned to face the younger brother. “Do you need help carrying anything?” Coming face to face with a crouching spectre having been right behind you all this time, you clutched your chest, yelping as you fell backwards onto Akridon’s lap, dragging out a pained whine from the demon.

Your mouth had fallen agape in disbelief as you stared at the ethereal spirit that had offered you a simple yet sincere smile in return, his kind emerald eyes excitedly meeting yours.

Carefully getting off of Akridon was easier said than done, no matter how you moved or shifted your weight you were met by breathy, pained grunts.The spirit had initially offered you his hand as he stood, but when you tried to grasp it your hand had gone right through his. He gave his hand a brief look, then back at yours, chuckling before he had pulled it back to his side.

“It’s the thought that counts, right?” The spirit nodded eagerly in return, an amused smirk on his lips.

After many odd looking maneuvers, you had managed to get off of Akridon’s lap, much to the sentinel spectres apparent amusement, still laughing quietly, covering his mouth with one hand.

“Laugh at me all you want, at least I have a body.” As you pointed at him accusingly with a lighthearted tone, the spirit raised a brow, clutching his chest in feigned hurt before he spoke.

“You just fell on mine.” You laughed along with the sentinel for a good few seconds before your brain managed to process what he’d just told you. Falling quiet as you your eyes travelled between the two of them, how had you not seen it before?

“It’s you!” Reaching out to touch him, your hands rested in the air in front of his chest, knowing this time that they would just go straight through him if you pushed further.

“And you’re the star he won’t stop mumbling about.” Stepping closer to rhe spectre, you leaned towards his chest longingly, wanting to somehow hold him closer to you. The spectre of the much younger looking Hall Master wrapped his arms around you to the best of his abilities, humming quietly in approval.

Pulling away momentarily from the others chest, you looked at the, in comparison to his demonic form, much shorter Akridon. Taking in each and every small detail. From his intricately braided beard, to his slightly crooked (yet perfect to you) nose. 

“You’re beautiful.” His smile had widened noticeable, unable to stop himself from letting the back of his hand graze your cheek, the gesture giving you goosebumps.

“So are you, my little star.” It warmed your heart to hear him speak, his voice clear as day. The calm and ethereal tone of Akridon’s voice had been just what you needed after that morning's turbulent events. “Everything is going to be OK.”

“What happened to you after you left that day?” You had gestured towards his limp body, still chained to the mossy stone pillar, worry laced in every word you spoke.

“I don't know, I only remember my life before all of this.” After stopping momentarily to look at his mangled body, he’d sighed, a grim expression on his face. “And almost everything leading up to my resurrection. After that, my memories are a blinding mess, until he called me here.” The frown on his lips turned into a careful smile. “The Slayer gathered most of my soul shards over time, and I could start making sense of who I once was.”

“So.. You don’t remember me?” Disappointment clearly visible on your features, he tried to be as sympathetic as possible to your situation.

“No.” Feeling defeated, you had backed off from the Hall Masters spirit, only for him to step closer as you did so. “Hey, come here.” You’d nervously tugged at the sleeves of your shirt whilst looking down at the ground, stepping a few inches closer to the spectre, finding comfort in his voice once again. “I might not remember you, but he does.” He’d pointed towards his slumped over body before he imitated your previous actions, holding your head up towards him, he let his thumbs ghost over your cheeks gently, as if he could actually touch you. “And he hasn’t shut up about his love either.”

Placing your hands on top of his, you were about to speak before you were interrupted by a loud thud. Both of you turned to face Aedaric, whose arms were filled with various medical supplies ranging from bottles of wound disinfectant, bandages and surgical tools. Looking down at the items, the commander was rather pleased with himself, fumbling with some gauze that threatened to fall; not paying attention to his surroundings.

“The broken AI up in command won’t let me move Akridon, so we’re going to have to make due down here for now.” Looking up from his scavenged pile of supplies he stops in his tracks. “What are you doing with your hands?” You looked to your hands, noticing that the spectral hands underneath them had vanished, and so had the spirit of the younger Akridon.

“I- uh… Akridon was here, just a second ago.” As you searched the room, confused as to where he had gone, Aedaric gave you a sceptical look, tapping his foot against the cobblestone path he’d walked.

“I don’t… think he’s going anywhere.”

“What?” Quickly realizing just how odd this must have looked, you slapped a hand to your forehead, nervously laughing. “Of course he isn’t , he’s right here! Just where we left him!”

“Right…” Unconvinced, Aedaric placed the wide array of items on a nearby, mostly clean, rock. “Anyway, here’s what me and Vega could find throughout the fortress.”

Vega? That must have been the name of the very polite voice that had welcomed you when you first came here. But if he referred to this voice by name, who’s the broken AI in command? Shaking your head to focus on the matter at hand. As you reached for a package of cotton pads and wound disinfectant, one of the few items you knew what they were, Aedaric stopped you, pushing you towards Akridon instead.

“We need to get his armour off first.” Sputtering as a blush rose to your cheeks, you were at a loss for words, blankly staring at the commander before he connected the dots.

“It’s easy, it’s all metal clasps, one at a time as you go. We only need to take the clunkiest parts off, ok?” Starting with the pauldrons, and working your way down to his gauntlet, you were starting to see the true extent of the damage he’d suffered. Once you removed the protective chainmail and leather layer underneath, you could see where his armour had seemingly been crushed into his arms, deep bruises apparent where the edges of his armour pieces had dug into his skin.

Cringing visibly at the sickly purple tones his usually pale skin had taken on, you repeated the actions on the other side, eventually removing his utility belt in order to remove the large faulds that protected his legs in an attempt to let him sit more comfortably.

“That’s enough.” Handing you the items you’d previously reached for, you started thoroughly cleaning Akridon’s many wounds while Aedaric got to patching him up to the best of his abilities. “The cuts and wounds I can treat, but these bruises will have to heal on their own, at most we can try to ice them to reduce the swelling.” Akridon’s pained groans eventually fell silent as he instead started strenuously holding his breath.

Just as you’d started cleaning the deepened cut on his lips, Akridon slowly opened his eyes, squinting as the light worsened his already overwhelming headache. Refusing to take your eyes off of him, you reached out to slap Aedaric on his arm, the commander about to scold you for interrupting him before he saw what you were trying to bring his attention to.

**“Too bright…”** Without thinking, you threw yourself around his shoulders, Akridon letting out a strained wheeze and clenching his jaw shut. Realizing just how badly that must have hurt, you began to pull away before he grunted in disapproval. **“Come here…”** Nuzzling into the crook of his neck, you felt a weak and trembling hand come to rest against your lower back. **“You’re ok…”**

“Are you saying you doubted my ability to guard her, brother?” Poking his older brother's arm extremely lightly, Akridon scoffed, closing his eyes tightly.

**“I’ve never once doubted you, little brother.”** Aedaric, chuckling quietly, finally permitted himself to relax, sitting down next to his brother, leaning his head against Akridon’s shoulder.

“Better not have…” Attempting to move into a more comfortable position, Akridon huffed angrily at the chains that kept him in place.

“We’ll have to talk to the Slayer about getting those off.” Both brothers nodded in agreement, a brief silence fell between the three of you.

“Did you know she sounds like our father?”

**“It’s cute, isn’t it?”** Akridon retorted.

“Very.” Pulling away to scold them both, you stopped yourself when you saw the spectre from before, sitting atop a pile of rubble on the far side of the arena, nodding in agreement.

Three against one, there was no winning against them this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please accept this piece of 90% fluff writing, for you and your man certainly need it.🥺


	20. Ligria Aria XX

“What do you mean, we can’t remove the chains?” Frustrated, you paced along the mossy cobblestone path going around the arena. Aedaric crossed his arms, shrugging as he let out a defeated sigh.

“The Slayer won’t take that risk.” Grabbing onto your arms carefully to stop your pacing in front of him, you gave him a glare. “Until we’re certain Akridon isn’t going to slip back under Grav’s control again, it’s safest for all of us, including Akridon, if he stays down here.”

“Akridon’s hurt. He needs to at least be able to lay down but he can’t even do that!” Hushing you both, Akridon looked up from his place on the floor.

**“He’s right…”** The Hall Master grumbled quietly into the cold air, squinting as he did so. The head injury he’d suffered following his fight with the Slayer had left him with a near constant, splitting migraine, leaving him overly sensitive to light and sounds.

“But-” Before you were able to argue your case, Akridon had cut you off.

**“No.”** Giving in with a huff, you waved Aedaric off, rubbing your temples. 

“I just- want you to get better…” Akridon managed to let out a strained snort before wincing from the pain in his ribs that breathing caused him.

**“Believe me when I say I’ve had worse injuries than this.”** Nodding towards the now exposed, singed hole in his chest where his heart had once been, you grimaced, having avoided looking at the area up to this point. Patting the pavement next to him with the one hand that had some motion left to it, you sat down next to him on the hard ground, holding one of many ice packs against his sore muscles.

Having taken care of most of his wounds, both you and Aedaric had thankfully noted that many of the injuries would only be needing time to heal, spare the cuts that had been made across his chest by the hell priest.

You were uncertain of how long you’d both stayed there, tending to Akridon’s wounds, having passed the time with small talk and some incredibly gentle joking around. 

Eventually, you’d reluctantly let out a yawn, your eyelids growing increasingly heavier by the minute.

Resting your head against Akridons shoulder, he turned his to rest on yours, making sure none of his horns scraped your delicate skin, ghosting a gentle kiss on top of your hair; Aedaric on the other side cleared his throat.

“Are you sure you want to sleep down here tonight, little one? There’s plenty of beds in the crew’s quarters above command.” Both brothers had tried to convince you to sleep anywhere but down here, but you’d remained adamant in your decision in staying next to Akridon. Your heart feared that you’d lose him if you left him alone again, even though your logical side tried to convince you that he wasn’t going anywhere this time.

“I’m sleeping down here with Akridon, he might need something.” Hearing both of them take a breath to argue against you, you shushed them both. “No discussion.” Aedaric grinned while his older brother sighed in defeat, you could be just as stubborn as them when it really came down to it.

“Then let’s go get you some pillows and bedsheets from the crew’s quarters, before you two lovewraiths fall asleep like that.” Both you and Akridon shot up, sputtering poorly thought out excuses for your innocent yet soft and cuddly behaviour.

Promising you’d return shortly, you followed Aedaric through the far off portal in the room, still very unsure of the foreign sensation of teleportation, you’d grabbed onto the commander's arm to keep yourself from tripping over as you had the first time.

As he guided you through the fortress, he’d much like his brother, let you stop here and there to take in the scenery, the marvelous stained glass windows found in most halls being unlike any of those you’d seen previously on Earth, and only at a distance in Sentinel Prime. 

After you’d climbed up the flight of stairs leading into the crew’s quarters, you stopped Aedaric by one of the doors he was about to open to retrieve your items, him giving you an inquisitive look.

“I just- I wanted to thank you, for everything.” Before he could interject with his usual _don’t worry about it_ , you cut him off. “I’m being serious. Without you I don’t know what would have happened to me, you’ve left your home behind too and you haven’t complained once.”

“Thank you, little one, it means a lot to hear you say that.” Opening his arms to offer you a hug, you happily accepted it. “You mean the world to my brother, and I’d do anything for him.” After a brief pause, he scoffed lightheartedly, pulling away to ruffle your hair. While the commander sorted through various pillows and bedsheets, handing them to you as he went, something at the far end of the corridor, just before the hall rounded the corner, caught your attention.

“Aedaric, what’s that?” Aedaric, curious as to see what you were asking about, leaned around the corner from the supply closet.

Atop a marble pillar sat what looked like a decorative silver sword, encrusted with teal gems and covered in intricate, seemingly glowing, carvings.

“Ah, Akridon didn’t teach you much of our faith, did he?” You simply shook your head, having focused on much easier texts to read so far. “It’s a ceremonial sword used by the fortress’ night’s templar, the keepers of our ancient faith are called the Larenvin in our language.” Returning back to grab a final pillow for his brother, he mused to himself. “Perhaps we should bring it to Tytharon once we return, there’s not many left after the civil war.”

“I’ll be sure to remind you.” Winking at Aedaric he bumped into your shoulder lightly.

“Now, think you can find your way back on your own? I _really_ need to sleep.” Nodding, you’d both gone your separate ways, Aedaric having vanished into one of the many rooms lining the circular corridors while you headed back down the stairs towards command.

Even though you were incredibly grateful for every bit of help you’d received, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel somewhat left in the dark. Spirits, soul shards and demonic possession were all subjects that felt so incredibly alien to you.

Akridon’s spectre would randomly appear in the corner of your eyes, sometimes you’d give him a small wave which he returned, or he would be gone before you could even turn to look at him.

One thing you knew for certain was that Akridon could see him too, even when you couldn’t. While you were helping him recover, he’d drift off, staring into nothing, or he’d nod in agreement to words you couldn’t hear.

You hadn't quite gotten over the encounter with the spectre just yet either. He seemed to be just like the man you’d get to know and care for, yet there was this gleam in his eye, a spring in his head that your Akridon simply didn’t have.

Brought out of your thoughts by a surprisingly loud robotic voice as you entered command, your heart skipped a beat.

“Would you like me to open the portal down to the rippatorium instead of taking the elevator?” You blinked a few times, connecting the dots in your head. 

“Yes please, Vega. Thank you.” Hugging onto the pillows and bedsheets tightly, you approached the portal, briefly looking out the window towards the great void outside, towards Earth.

Your hometown seemed to have been completely engulfed in flames, a twisting crack running across the Earth’s crust, connecting with others further along its path to form a gigantic pentagram across the planet's surface.

Deep down, you knew that you should feel _worse_ about the situation on Earth than you actually do, but for some reason, thinking about your home, your family and _your birth planet_ , you felt next to nothing.

“If it’s any help, I’ve been told that closing one’s eyes might keep you from falling over.” Great, even the AI had noticed you’d fallen over.

* * *

You’d have to thank Vega later, your exit out of the argent blue portal much more bearable with your eyes closed, even though you felt somewhat silly being seemingly unable to walk straight. Meeting with Akridon’s tired gaze, you clutched the pillows and sheets tightly to your chest, walking up to him carefully.

As you looked around briefly, you wondered if Akridon’s spirit would be returning now that his brother had left. You weren’t sure of why he’d left so suddenly earlier when Aedaric had returned initially.

**“Looking for someone?”** Offering a concerned yet amused smile, you placed the stack of bedsheets upon one of the stone platforms surrounding the two of you, picking out the sheets you’d be putting on the floor to keep the rest relatively clean.

“You see him too?” Akridon nodded as he looked off to the far side of the room, suggesting that there might be something, or someone, there that you couldn’t see. Shaking your head after having stared into nothing for long enough, you placed a pillow behind his neck, offering some much needed comfort and support. “How come you can see him when I can’t?”

**“I can see stray souls, and the souls of those around me, even if they’re not visible to the mortal eye.”** Perplexed, you waited for him to explain further. **“I see him or… well... me, the same way I saw, and still see, you. Your soul contains all that you are, your happiness, your rage, your memories, your very being.”**

“Can you see… my soul?” Urging you to rest your head against his bare shoulder, you complied.

**“I can, always could ever since I became a demon.”** Carrying an expression of guilt as clear as day on his features, his words became filled with pain. **“Before I betrayed my brothers, Grav asked what I wanted most in life, but I had everything I could ever want, so I asked for nothing.”** Continuing after a short pause, Akridon sighed. **“Following the civil war, I was all alone, a monster everyone avoided, even my own brother refused to look at me. So... moments before I died, I asked Grav for a single soul, a light that could guide me home, to call my own.”** Choking up, he clenched his teeth together behind tattered lips. **“That day on Earth… I couldn’t let my light slip away from me.”**

Before he could continue, you stopped him with a low hush, sitting down next to him, and wrapped yourselves in the bedsheets you’d retrieved, taking his hand in yours.

**“I begged Grav to bring you back.”**

“And you got me back Akridon, I’m right here.” Reaching up with your one free hand to turn his head towards you, you let your thumb stroke his sore cheek.“See?”

**“Right here… with me…”** Bumping your foreheads together, eyes closed, both of you enjoyed having a moment go yourselves before he choked out a barely audible yet heartfelt confession. **“I love you so… so much, Stellaria”**

Feeling your heart skip a beat, you instinctively rushed to let go of Akridon’s hand in order to reach up to grab his face in your hands, pulling his chin gently towards you, closing the gap between your lips and his.

Sighing into the kiss, Akridon relaxed noticeably, silently cursing the chains that kept him in place, keeping him from wrapping his arms around you. 

Eventually, you had to pull away from him for air, Akridon letting out a small whine in response, both of you breathing a breathless laugh against each other’s lips.

“I love you too, Akridon.” Seeming content, Akridon did his best to lay beneath the sheets you’d wrapped yourselves in. 

**“Good night-”** Pausing, the chuckled quietly to himself **“my little lovewraith.”** Nuzzling into your hair he sighed, wanting nothing more than to pull you into his arms.

Before Akridon closed his eyes, he let himself savor the moment, watching over you as you slowly drifted off.

Right there, with him.

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all your cute comments, it means a lot to me. ❤ I realize that this kind of makes it two snuggly chapters in a row and it might be a bit boring to some poeple but I've been so down in the dumps lately that I just needed to make myself happy somehow. 
> 
> I love demon man, I would like to hold... 🥺😟

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [The Goddess of War](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27655346) by [ThatFluffyBoi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatFluffyBoi/pseuds/ThatFluffyBoi)




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